Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
Gift  of  Seymour  B.  Durst  Old  York  Library 


7  * 


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BooJ^of 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2014 


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Book  of 

OLD  -NEW-YORK 


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WHERE  WASHINGTON  IRVING  WAS  CHRISTENED.  AND  WHERE  MR. 
J.  PIERPONT  MORGAN  SERVED  AS  VESTRYMAN  FOR  NEARLY  HALF  A 
CENTURY.  THE  CHURCH  IS  NOW  ON  STUYVESANT  SQUARE.  IT  WAS 
THE  FIRST  OF  TRINITY'S  CHAPELS.  ERECTED  IN  1759. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  THE  LATE  MR.  J.  P.  MORGAN. 


Booh  of 


OLD  'NEW-YORK 


HET^RX  COLLINS  BJ^OW^ 


The  Tare  Old  Prints  are  from  the 
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COPYRIGHTED.  1913.  BY 
HENRY  COLLINS  BROWN 


ARRANGED  AND  PRINTED  FROM  TYPE  BY 
THE  LENT  8  GRAFF  CO.  ENGRAVINGS  BY 
THE  WALKER  ENGRAVING   CO.  NEW  YORK 


FOREWORD 


y  This  is  not  a  book  for  the  student  nor  for  the  antiquarian;  rather  is  it  for  the 
man  on  the  street  who  was  born  here,  or  who  has  passed  most  of  his  life  in  the  town 
of  which  we  write;  who  can  remember  when  Thirty-fourth  Street  was  far  "uptown," 
Fifty-ninth  Street  in  the  country,  and  when  the  little  steamers  Sylvan  Dell,  Sylvan 
Stream,  Sylvan  Glen,  plied  the  East  River  between  Harlem  and  downtown,  and 
were  the  "rapid  transit"  of  the  day.  In  short,  it  is  meant  primarily  for  New  York- 
ers, old  and  young,  who  are  proud  of  their  city  and  are  anxious  to  see  some  of 
its  old  characteristics  preserved  in  enduring  form  ere  the  records  are  no  longer 
available. 

Much  of  the  material  herein  displayed  has  been  obtained  from  contributors 
who  write  of  memories  still  vivid.  They  bear  upon  a  period  of  which  there  are 
few  printed  records.  Since  the  death  of  David  T.  Valentine  in  1869,  sometime 
clerk  of  the  Common  Council,  we  have  had  no  such  repository  of  antiquarian  knowl- 
edge as  his  delightful  "Manuals,"  in  which  for  a  score  of  years  he  faithfully  recorded 
the  doings  and  changes  in  the  city  he  served  so  well.  His  death,  as  told  by  his 
learned  friend,  Dr.  Kendrick,  was  probably  hastened  by  the  loss  of  the  position 
which  the  "old  and  faithful  clerk"  held  so  many  years.  The  publication  of  the 
"Manuals,"  which  under  his  loving  care  developed  from  a  mere  prosy  account  of 
the  doings  of  the  city  government  into  a  unique  and  valuable  local  history,  remains 
the  only  record  of  that  period  in  New  York  prior  to  the  use  of  photography. 

The  wonderfully  interesting  series  of  quaint  and  almost  forgotten  pictures 
of  this  period  which  I  have  here  assembled  bring  back,  as  nothing  else  can,  the 
little  red  brick  two  and  a  half  story  city  that  was  here  yesterday,  but  is  gone  to-day. 
To  the  many  kind  friends  who  made  this  collection  possible  I  return  the  most  cor- 
dial thanks.   Without  them  the  book  would  have  fallen  short  of  its  aim. 

The  Winter  of  this  year — 1913-14 — marks  the  300th  Anniversary  of  the  first 
landing  of  White  men  upon  our  beloved  isle.  October,  1914,  marks  the  Tercen- 
tenary of  the  formal  entrance  of  New  York  into  the  world's  Commerce.  The 
same  year  also  ends  a  Century  of  Peace  with  England  following  the  Treaty  of 
Ghent.  It  is  well  that  we  should  pay  a  lasting  tribute  to  the  memory  of  those 
intrepid  spirits  who  made  this  city  possible. 

For  many  of  the  delightful  pages  which  this  volume  contains,  then,  I  cheerfully 
accord  the  credit  to  others.   As  Montaigne  happily  puts  it: 

"I  have  brought  you  a  nosegay  of  flowers, 
But  only  the  string  that  binds  them  is  mine  own." 

The  Author. 

New  York  City, 
October,  1913. 


[vii] 


3Framtrrfi'  Sfawmt 


FRAUNCES'  TAVERN  IS  ONE  OF  THE  OLDEST  BUILDINGS  IN  NEW 
YORK  CITY.  AND  WAS  THE  SCENE  OF  MANY  STIRRING  EVENTS  DURING 
THE  REVOLUTIONARY  PERIOD.  IT  DIVIDES  HONORS  WITH  ST.  PAUL'S 
CHAPEL.  WASHINGTON'S  HEADQUARTERS  AN  D  THE  VAN  COURTLANDT 
MANSION  IN  ITS  CONNECTION  WITH  MEMORIES  OF  WASHINGTON 
IN  NEW  YORK  IN  THE  "LONG  ROOM"  OCCURRED  THE  AFFECTING 
SCENE  WITH  HIS  OFFICERS  DURING  WHICH.  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME. 
HE  TOOK  LEAVE  OF  HIS  COMRADES-IN-ARMS.  AND  RETIRED  TO 
MOUNT  VERNON. 

THE  BUILDING  WAS  ORIGINALLY  CONSTRUCTED  BY  ETIENNE  DE 
LANCEY.  1719.  AS  HIS  RESIDENCE  IN  1762  IT  WAS  PURCHASED  BY 
"BLACK  SAM''  FRAUNCES.  WHO  OPENED  A  TAVERN.  CALLING  IT  THE 
QUEEN'S  HEAD.''  AS  AN  INN.  IT  ENJOYED  MANY  YEARS  OF  PROS- 
PERITY. IN  1768  THE  CHAMBER  OF  COMMERCE  WAS  ORGANIZED 
HERE.  IN  1774  THE  SONS  OF  LIBERTY  AND  THE  VIGILANCE  COM- 
MITTEE MET  HERE  TO  PROTEST  AG  Al  NST  TH  E  I M  PORTATION  OF  TEA. 
AND  WOUND  UP  THE  MEETING  BY  MARCHING  TO  THE  SHIP  "LON- 
DON.'' WHICH  HAD  JUST  ARRIVED.  AND  DUMPING  THE  CARGO  INTO 
THE  WATER.  THUS  ANTEDATING  THE  BOSTON  "TEA-PARTY  "  THE 
NEW  YORK  YACHT  CLUB  AND  THE  SONS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION  ALSO 
ORGANIZED  HERE.  OTHER  PARTICULARS  OF  THIS  BUILDING  APPEAR 
ELSEWHERE. 

FROM  THE   COLLECTION   OF  THE  SONS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


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TABLE  of  COHTETMJS 

PAGE 


Foreword   vii 

The  Beginning   3 

The  First  Actual  Settlement  of  White  Men  upon  Manhattan 

Island   4 

Beginning  of  New  York's  Chartered  Commerce,  16 14      ...  8 

The  Treaty  of  Ghent,  18 14   n 

Beginnings  of  Foreign  Immigration   15 

How  Some  of  Our  Well-known  Streets  Got  Their  Names  (Frank 

W.  Crane)   ...........  20 

"The  Maidens'  Path"   32 

Evacuation  of  New  York  by  the  British   36 

St.  George's  Chapel  in  Beekman  Street   39 

Delightful  Memories  of  Bygone  Days  by  Men  still  Living  (Charles 

F.  Lawrence  and  E.  Jaffray  Phillips)      ......  44,  56 

Large  Families  the  Rule  in  the  '50s  and  '60s   68 

A.  T.  Stewart  and  Brooks  Bros.'  First  Store,  1850   ....  71 

Recollections  of  a  Visitor  in  '61   72 

The  Old  Post  Office  in  Nassau  Street   75 

Cost  of  Living  in  '63   76 

Site  of  the  New  Municipal  Building   79 

New  York  a  Military  Camp   84 

The  "Herald's"  Hoax  and  the  Moon  Hoax   87 

Social  Centres  of  Yesterday   88 

the  battery  and  state  street,  bowling  green  and  broadway;  park  place; 
st.  John's  park  ;  bond  street  ;  st.  mark's  place  ;  Washington  square. 


Table  of  Contents 


PAGE 


Some  Personal  Recollections  of  Greenwich  Village  (Euphemia  M. 

Olcott)       ...........  103 

Greenwich  Village  in  History   112 

Jenny  Lind  and  the  Great  P.  T.  Barnum   120 

Richmond  Hill — Home  of  Aaron  Burr   123 

Alexander  Hamilton   127 

Ellis  Island  a  Powder  Magazine  as  Late  as  Forty  Years  Ago  .      .  128 

Beginnings  of  Central  Park   131 

Before  the  Taxicab   132 

New  York  Introduces  Baseball  to  the  World   135 

No  Christmas  in  ye  Olden  Time   139 

Interesting  Forecast  of  Real  Estate  Values  Sixty  Years  Ago  .      .  140 

Romances  in  Real  Estate   156 

WHAT  EARLY  CENTURY  ERRORS  HAVE  COST  INDIVIDUALS.  WHEN  J.  J.  ASTOR 
ADVERTISED  HAD  GOOD  STORE  TO  LET  IN  1813  ON  SITE  OF  THE  ASTOR  HOUSE. 

New  York  Assets  nearly  a  Billion  and  a  Half   164 

Ginger  Wine   167 

Curious  Newspaper  Style  of  Old  Days   167 

Memories  of  the  Wallacks  {Arthur  W.  Wallack)    .      .      .  .168 

Joe  Jefferson   184 

Footlight  Favorites  of  Thirty  Years  Ago       .      ,      .      .  .187 

The  Old  Churches  of  New  York   199 

"Well-remembered  Plays  of  Yesterday"— Notes  from  an  Old  Diary  .  207 

Beginnings  of  Minstrelsy   208 

Random  Notes  of  Old-time  Performances   211 

THE  OLD  BOWERY  ;  "HUMPTY  DUMPTY"  AND  GEORGE  L.  FOX,  ITS  CREATOR  ?  NIBLO's 
GARDEN  ;  THE  BROADWAY  THEATRE  ;  THE  FAMOUS  RAVELS. 

In  i  802 :  Oddities   220 

[xii] 


Table  of  Contents 


Old-time  Ferry-boats  on  the  East  and  North  Rivers 
Street  Car  Beginnings 
Beginning  of  the  Elevated  Railroads 
First  Organization  of  Mounted  Police 
Early  Development  of  Telegraphy 
Beginnings  of  the  Telephone  . 
Beginnings  of  Electric  Light  . 
Beginnings  of  Electric  Power  . 
Moving  Pictures 
Beginnings  of  the  Phonograph 
Famous  Thoroughfares  in  New  York 

BROADWAY  :  THE  GREATEST  STREET  IX  THE  WORLD  ;  BROADWAY  IN  1913  ;  WALL 
STREET  :  THE  BEST  KNOWN  STREET  IN  NEW  YORK  ;  PEARL  STREET  AS  A  RETAIL 
CENTRE. 

From  a  Contemporary  Description  of  the  Astor  House  at  its  Open- 
ing in  i 836   

A  Fashionable  Dames'  School  in  New  York  of  a  Bygone  Type  {Eu- 

phemia  M.  Olcott)  ......... 

The  Prince  of  Wales'  Ball  in  i860  

New  York,  the  City  of  Magnificent  Impermanence  {Joseph  P.  Day) 

THE  ERA  OF  LIFE  IN  LAYERS  '.  THE  ERA  OF  TRANSPORTATION;  THE  AGE  OF 
UNDERGROUND  HIGHWAYS  ;  THE  WATER  SUPPLY. 

The  First  Flat  

Prints  of  Old  New  York  and  Their  Collectors  (J.  H.  Jordan) 

THE  TRIALS  OF  THE  COLLECTOR  :  FAMOUS  VIEWS  IN  THIS  BOOK. 

Origin  of  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  

Old  Chelsea  Village  

Street  Cries  of  Old  Days  

Fraunces'  Tavern  


PAGE 
223 

227 

232 

235 
236 

24O 

247 
251 

252 

255 
256 


284 

287 

303 
304 

323 
324 

336 

339 
344 
347 


[xiii] 


Table  of  Contents 

PAGE 

Picturesque  Days  of  the  Volunteer  Fire  Department    .      .      .  351 

WHEN  THE  BOYS  "RAN  WITH  THE  MACHINE." 

Great  Fires  in  New  York   356 

CONTEMPORARY  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  GREAT  FIRE,  DEC.  17,  1835  ?  THE  FIRE  IN 

1776. 

Some  Famous  Collections  of  Old  New  York  Views  (/.  H.  Jordan)  .  364 

Recollections  of  Earlier  Days   371 

Days  of  Smooth-shaven  Faces  and  Other  Strange  Customs    .      .  372 

Beginning  of  the  New  York  Historical  Society     .      .      .  -375 

The  Society  Library,  the  Oldest  in  the  City — Some  of  its  Priceless 

Treasures   379 

Old  Merchants  of  New  York   380 

L'Envoi:  Somewhat  Personal   392 


[xiv] 


LIST  of  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING 
PAGE 

St.  George's  Chapel,  in  Beekman  Street,  1865  [Colored]  Frontispiece 

FRAUNCES'  TAVERN  [Colored]     .   viii 

A  Remarkably  Rare  Stephenson  View  of  Broadway  in  1855    .      .  3 

A  World-famous  View  of  New  York  (The  Celebrated  Drawing  of 

Manhattan  by  Peter  Schenk.   About  1675)    .       .       .       .  4 

View  of  New  York  in  1790   8 

View  of  Fort  George  with  the  City  of  New  York  from  the  South- 
west. About  1760   12 

The  Famous  Birch  View  of  New  York,  1803 :  First  State  .      .      .  16 

The  Famous  Birch  View  of  New  York  :  Second  State      ...  20 

Maverick's  Wonderful  View  of  Wall  Street.   1825.       ...  24 

Turn-out  of  the  American  Express  Company       ....  28 

View  of  St.  Paul's  Church  and  the  Broadway  Stages  ...  32 

Broadway,  corner  Canal  Street,  1835   36 

Washington  Square  as  a  Parade  Ground   40 

First  Division,  N.  Y.  State  Artillery   44 

Early  Vanderbilt  Days  [Colored]   48 

St.  Mark's  Church   52 

The  Harbor  and  the  Battery,  1850   56 

Broadway,  1856:  West  Side,  Fulton  to  Cortlandt  Street  ...  60 

The  Jefferson  Guards   64 

Megarey's  Rare  Print  of  Lower  Broadway  in  1825  .      .      .      .  68 

The  New  York  Hospital,  1804   72 

[XV] 


List  of  Illustrations 


FACING 
PAGE 


"Steamship  Row"  in  its  Palmy  Days  [Colored]      ....  76 

Fulton  Street  in  1 849   80 

Madison  Square:  The  Worth  Monument,  1850      ....  84 

Fourth  Avenue  and  Twenty-second  Street:  St.  Paul's  M.  E.  Church  88 

Burning  of  Barnum's  Museum,  1868   92 

An  Important  View  from  Brooklyn  Heights   96 

John  Street  Methodist  Church,  1768   100 

New  York's  First  Hotel.  About  1789   104 

Wall  Street  about  1 845   108 

State  Street  and  the  Battery,  1820   112 

Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  1859   116 

Old  Post  Office  in  Nassau  Street   1 20 

Curious  Bridge  at  Broadway  and  Fulton  Street,  1868      .      .  .124 

Old  Greenwich  Village   128 

First  Office  of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Co.  [Colored]  .  .  132 
The  Howard  Hotel,  Broadway  and  Maiden  Lane     .       .       .  .136 

The  National  Theatre   140 

Site  of  Standard  Oil  Building,  1848   144 

Lord  &  Taylor  in  Catharine  Street,  1833   148 

Beekman  House,  near  Fiftieth  Street  and  East  River    .      .  .152 

Albany  Post  Road,  now  "Automobile  Row,"  Broadway,  1861  .  .  156 
Delmonico's,  at  Fifth  Avenue  and  Fourteenth  Street    .      .  .160 

An  Old-fashioned  Garden  in  Chelsea  Village   164 

Street  Criers  of  New  York.  About  1850   168 

THE   STRAWBERRY   GIRL ;  THE   CLAM-SELLER ;  THE  RADISH   GIRL ;    THE  SCISSORS- 
GRINDER. 

Murray  Street  about  1850   172 

[  xvi  ] 


List  of  Illustrations 


FACING 
PAGE 

Rare  Photograph  of  Columbia  College  at  Madison  Avenue  and 


Fiftieth  Street.  About  1874   176 

Columbia  College  about  1874   180 

The  Rhinelander  Home  in  William  Street   184 

Leaders  of  Society  at  the  Prince's  Ball,  i860   188 

Summer  Residence  of  Fernando  Wood   192 

St.  John's  Chapel-in-the-Fields   196 

Last  Days  of  Croker's  Real  Estate  Office  (hi  Broadway)    .      .  200 

The  Great  Fire  of  1835   204 

Underground  Railway  in  Broadway,  1870   208 

A  Breezy  Morning  in  New  York  Bay  (Famous  Bennett  Aquatint)  .  212 

First  Trip  on  an  Elevated  Road,  1867   216 

The  Peter  Goelet  House,  Broadway  and  Nineteenth  Street  .      .  220 

Broadway  between  Murray  and  Warren  Streets,  1850    .      .      .  224 

Turn-out  of  Adams  Express  Co.,  1851   228 

The  Old  Brick  Presbyterian  Church,  corner  Nassau  Street  and 

Park  Row,  1801   228 

Beginning  of  the  Seaman's  Institute   232 

The  Famous  Tiebout  View  of  Federal  Hall   236 

Van  Courtlandt  Manor  House,  1748   240 

First  Advertisement  of  the  Telephone  and  First  Telephone  Direc- 
tory  Page  244 

Union  Square  in  1850   244 

Forty-second  Street  and  Madison  Avenue,  1864      .      .      .  .248 

New  York  Central  Depot,  i860   252 

A  Harlem  Train  in  i860   256 

The  Grand  Central  Terminal,  1902   260 

[  xvii  ] 


List  of  Illustrations 


FACING 


PAGE 
264 

The  Spingler  Hotel  in  Union  Square,  i860  

268 

Madison  Square  Garden  as  a  Railroad  Depot  

272 

Forty-second  Street  from  Second  Avenue,  looking  West,  1869  . 

276 

Maiden  Lane,  about  1885  

280 

Overhead  Telephone  and  Telegraph  Wires  in  Broadway,  1890  (with 
a  View  after  All  Wires  were  put  Underground) 

284 

Madison  Square:  Site  of  Metropolitan  Life  Insurance  Company, 
1880  

288 

Old  Corporal  Thompson's  Road  House  

292 

Corner  of  Twenty-third  Street  and  Fourth  Avenue:  National 
Academy  of  Design  and  Lyceum  Theatre  (Site  of  Metropolitan 

296 

Murray  Street  and  Dr.  Mason's  Church,  1822 

300 

Early  Rapid  Transit  on  Greenwich  Street  

304 

The  Rhinelander  Sugar  House,  1763  

308 

Broadway  and  Grand  Street:  Lincoln's  Funeral,  1865  . 

312 

Beginning  of  Department  Stores  

3l6 

320 

Ellis  Island  as  a  Powder  Magazine,  1868  

320 

Early  Stores  of  A.  T.  Stewart  on  Broadway,  1850  to  i860  . 

324 

The  Old  Empire  Building  on  First  Site  of  Grace  Church 

328 

The  Greatest  Business  Corner  in  the  World  

332 

First  House  Lighted  by  Gas,  1825  

336 

The  Old  New  York  University  Building  in  Washington  Square,  1845 

340 

Corner  Pine  Street  and  Broadway,  1847  

344 

[  xviii  ] 

List  of  Illustrations 

FACING 
PAGE 

Oldest  Business  Firm  in  New  York  (P.  Lorillard  &  Co.,  Established 

1760)  •      •      •      >  348 

Old  Belmont  Houses,  Fifth  Avenue  and  Eighteenth  Street,  1893  •  352 

An  Old-time  Baseball  Team:  1870  Page  355 

Broadway  in  1855  356 

Old  Chelsea  Village:  Residence  of  Clement  C.  Moore,  Twenty- 
third  Street  and  Ninth  Avenue  360 

Old  Furniss  Homestead:  Broadway  and  iooth  Street  in  1898       .  364 

Park  Place  in  1850   368 

Hudson  River  Steam-boat  Stock  Certificate,  1814    .      .      .  Page  371 

From  Forty-second  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue   372 

First  Entrance  to  the  Brooklyn  Bridge   376 

Lydig  Mills  in  the  Bronx,  1760   380 

The  Old  Cushman  House,  Ninth  Avenue,  Twenty-first  to  Twen- 
ty-second Street  (Now  Site  of  Chelsea  Apartments)      .      .  380 

The  Gouverneur  Morris  Home  in  Morrisania,  1786       .      .  .384 

The  Famous  Burgis  View  of  New  York,  1717  388 


[xix] 


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Book  of 

OLD  TMEW  YORK 


THE  BEGINNING 

«<  W"    "W"  E  was  born — no  one  knows  where  or  when.  He  died — no  one  knows 
■      B    when  or  how.   He  comes  into  our  knowledge  on  the  quarterdeck  of 
1       a     a  ship  bound  for  the  North  Pole.   He  goes  out  of  our  knowledge  in 
a  crazy  boat  manned  by  eight  sick  sailors." 
So  writes  one  historian  of  the  man  whose  name  is  first  identified  with  New 
York.    He  appears  to  have  vanished  into  nothingness  when  his  great  work  was 
done. 

Even  his  portraits  and  autograph  are  not  generally  believed  to  be  genuine.  No 
one  knows  his  age  at  the  time  he  made  his  discoveries.  That  he  was  of  mature 
years  is  shown  by  his  having  an  eighteen-year-old  son.  But  whether  he  was  a  hale 
mariner  of  forty  or  a  grizzled  veteran  of  seventy  has  never  been  guessed. 

He  was  born,  it  seems,  in  England,  some  time  in  the  sixteenth  century.  His 
name  was  Henry  Hodgson,  but  his  Dutch  employers  later  twisted  the  English 
phraseology  into  "Hendrik  Hudson."  His  father  and  grandfather  are  supposed 
to  have  been  London  merchants. 

Hudson  had  made  two  attempts  to  find  the  Northwest  passage,  both  unsuccess- 
ful. This  caused  the  company  to  abandon  further  work  along  this  line,  and  as  an 
explorer  Hudson  seemed  a  failure.  Just  when  it  looked  as  if  he  would  sink  into 
oblivion  the  Dutch  West  India  Company  gave  him  the  opportunity  of  his  life,  and 
by  his  immortal  voyage  in  the  Half  Moon  to  the  mouth  of  the  great  river  which 
now  bears  his  name  the  fame  of  Hendrik  Hudson  has  gone  down  the  centuries  as 
one  of  the  greatest  of  discoverers. 

For  his  perilous  journey,  in  the  frailest  of  frail  crafts,  Hudson  received  the 
munificent  sum  of  $320.  In  case  he  never  came  back  the  directors  of  the  company 
agreed  to  pay  his  widow  a  further  sum  of  $80  in  cash. 

Prior  to  the  formal  occupation  of  Manhattan  Island  as  a  possession  by  the 
Dutch,  two  other  Dutch  navigators — Christiansen  and  Block — spent  the  winter  of 
1613-14  on  the  Island.  The  exact  location  of  the  huts  erected  by  them  is  on  the  site 
of  39  Broadway.  It  is  the  Tercentenary  of  this  event  which  New  York  celebrates 
next  year.  The  city  was  not  formally  settled  till  1626. 

With  a  mention  of  Petrus  Stuyvesant,  last  and  greatest  of  the  Dutch  Gover- 
nors of  the  West  India  Company,  and  whose  impress  is  indelibly  stamped  upon  the 
history  of  Manhattan,  I  take  leave  of  the  origin  of  New  Amsterdam,  and  proceed 
with  some  recollections  of  its  development. 


[3] 


THE  FIRST  ACTUAL  SETTLEMENT  OF  WHITE  MEN  UPON 

MANHATTAN  ISLAND 


Upon  Hudson's  return  to  Holland,  and  a  report  of  his  discovery,  many  other 
countries  immediately  began  to  plan  expeditions  of  various  kinds  to  visit  the 
region  described  by  him.  As  a  result  several  vessels  made  the  voyage  but  none 
with  the  purpose  of  colonization.  Most  of  them  were  traders  taking  with  them 
trinkets  to  exchange  for  skins,  fish,  salt  and  other  commodities  produced  by  the 
countries  on  the  route.  Aside  from  these  desultory  voyages,  there  was  no  idea  of 
establishing  a  settled  community. 

Late  in  1613,  however,  Adrian  Block,  in  command  of  the  Tiger,  and  his 
crew  spent  some  time  in  the  harbor  of  New  York  collecting  furs  from  the  Indians. 
His  vessel  was  followed  by  others,  so  that  during  this  year  the  island  was  visited 
by  four  separate  expeditions. 

In  November  the  Tiger  took  fire  at  its  anchorage  just  off  the  southern 
point  of  Manhattan  Island,  and  Block  and  his  crew  escaped  with  difficulty  to  the 
shore.  The  vessel  burned  to  the  water's  edge,  and  as  the  other  ships  had  all  sailed  for 
Holland,  there  was  no  possibility  of  assistance  from  white  men  before  spring. 
Block,  therefore,  determined  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  situation,  and  proceeded  to 
arrange  temporary  accommodations  for  himself  and  his  men.  They  built  four 
small  huts  at  about  the  present  site  of  39  Broadway,  which  is  appropriately 
marked  by  a  tablet  recording  this  fact  erected  by  the  Holland  Society.  They 
were  rude,  home-made  affairs,  and  beyond  providing  shelter  were  of  no  particular 
importance.  The  Indians  proved  to  be  kindly  disposed  and  provided  the  marooned 
white  men  with  food. 

Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  Block,  with  great  energy,  immediately  set  himself 
to  work  upon  the  charred  remains  of  the  Tiger,  from  which  he  ultimately  con- 
structed a  new  vessel  which  was  of  sixteen  tons  burden  and  was  found  to  be 
entirely  sea-worthy.  This  was  the  first  ship  ever  built  in  New  York,  and  it 
requires  no  small  stretch  of  imagination  to  understand  how  such  a  feat  could  be 
accomplished  in  view  of  the  absence  of  almost  all  the  requisite  tools  with  which 
to  work.  The  fact  remains,  nevertheless,  that  Block  accomplished  the  appar- 
ently impossible,  and  in  the  spring  launched  the  Restless,  which  name  he 
chose  for  his  new-made  vessel,  and  explored  Long  Island  Sound  as  far  east  as 
the  island  which  bears  his  name.  After  sailing  up  the  Connecticut  River  to  where 
Hartford  now  stands,  he  proceeded  to  Cape  Cod,  where  he  unexpectedly  met 
another  Dutch  navigator,  Christiansen,  whom  he  had  known  in  Amsterdam. 
Block  exchanged  the  Restless  for  the  iarger  and  stauncher  vessel  of  Christiansen. 
In  this  he  returned  to  Holland  while  Christiansen  continued  along  the  coast  in  the 
Restless. 


[4] 


COPYRIGHT    1913     H    C  BROWN 

A  JUurlu-fanwuB  Binu  of  Npui  Ifork 
uJljr  (ttelebratrn  Sraming  of  fHanhattan  by  grtrr  grljfttk.    About  IBfS 


THIS  RARE  AND  PRACTICALLY  UNKNOWN  PRINT  DERIVES  ITS  GREAT 
REPUTATION  FROM  THE  REMARKABLE  ACCURACY  OF  ITS  CARTOG- 
RAPHY. CONSIDERING  THE  MEAGRE  STATE  OF  TH  E  ART  AT  TH  E  Tl  M  E. 
AND  THE  POSSESSION  OF  A  VIEW  OF  OUR  CITY  WHOLLY  UNKNOWN 
TILL  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  THIS  MAP  IN  GERMANY  A  FEW  YEARS  AGO. 
WHILE  ITS  EXISTENCE  HAD  LONG  BEEN  A  MATTER  OF  RECORD.  NO 
ACTUAL  COPY  HAD  EVER  BEFORE  BEEN  LOCATED.  THE  VIEW  OF 
NEW  YORK  IS  IN  ONE  OF  THE  LOWER  CARTOUCHES.  AND  SHOWS  THE 
OLD  FORT  AND  A  GENERAL  OUTLINE  OF  ITS  WELL-KNOWN  ENVIRON- 
MENTS. IN  ADDITION  TO  ITS  SCIENTIFIC  INTEREST  IT  IS  PLEASANT 
TO  KNOW  THAT  THE  ONLY  COPY  OF  SO  CELEBRATED  A  WORK  IS 
OWNED  IN  NEW  YORK. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  PERCY   R.  PYNE.  2ND 


First  Occupancy  by  White  Men 


The  winter  of  1613-14  is  therefore  signalized  by  the  actual  presence  of  white 
men  on  Manhattan  Island  for  a  period  of  more  than  six  months,  and  for  the 
strange  beginning  of  shipbuilding.  As  a  result  of  this  visit  the  island  was  never 
again  without  permanent  connection  with  Holland.  With  the  granting  of  the 
special  trading  charter  elsewhere  described,  ships  from  Holland  came  in  ever- 
increasing  numbers.  A  few  years  later  the  first  settlements  were  commenced  by  the 
Walloons  in  the  vicinity  of  Albany.  They  were  on  tracts  of  land  obtained  direct 
from  Holland,  by  men  styling  themselves  Patroons.  These  immense  grants  were 
placed  under  control  of  individuals,  and  thus  commenced  the  Manor  system  which 
was  afterwards  the  cause  of  much  trouble  to  the  authorities  in  New  Amsterdam. 
Colonization  of  the  manors  was  undertaken  by  the  proprietors  themselves,  the 
people  on  their  farms  being  the  owners'  personal  retainers. 

One  of  the  most  important  and  best  known  of  these  manors  was  Van  Court- 
landt,  which  comprised  hundreds  of  acres  in  what  is  now  the  northern  limits  of 
Manhattan,  and  included  many  acres  in  Yonkers.  It  is  only  in  recent  years  that 
seven  hundred  acres  of  this  manor  was  taken  by  the  city  for  a  public  park  and  the 
balance  subdivided  into  building  lots,  and  sold  for  home  sites.  The  Philipse,  Van 
Rensselaer,  Livingston  and  others  were  among  these  semi-feudal  grants. 

It  was  not  until  1626,  however,  that  the  Dutch  West  India  Company  took 
formal  steps  to  establish  their  colony  on  the  island  itself.  In  that  year  Peter 
Minuit  was  sent  with  instructions  to  purchase  the  land  from  the  Indians,  which 
he  did  for  the  insignificant  sum  of  $24.00  in  beads  and  trinkets.  This  transac- 
tion completed,  the  history  of  New  York  begins,  and  we  now  introduce  to  our 
readers  the  town  of  New  Amsterdam,  founded  by  the  Dutch  West  India  Com- 
pany under  a  special  act  of  the  States  General  of  Holland  in  1626. 


m 


BEGINNING  OF  NEW  YORK'S  CHARTERED 
COMMERCE,  1614 


Three  hundred  years  ago  the  site  of  New  York  was  an  obscure  island  sepa- 
rated from  the  civilization  of  Europe  by  three  thousand  miles  of  trackless  ocean. 
Like  a  sleeping  Titan  it  lay,  stretched  along  the  mouth  of  a  majestic  river,  a 
slender  ledge,  thirteen  miles  long  and  scarcely  two  miles  wide  in  its  broadest  part. 
The  forest  primeval  stretched  to  its  uttermost  shores.  Bold  rocky  headlands  lined 
them  and  many  streams  and  lakes  dotted  its  all  too  scanty  mainland. 

Nomadic  tribes  of  red  men  roamed  its  solitudes.  Rude  huts  here  and  there, 
made  from  bended  trees  covered  with  braided  grass,  offered  them  indifferent  shelter. 
The  forest  gave  them  meat,  the  fields  gave  them  bread,  and  the  adjacent  waters, 
fish.    Fur-bearing  animals  abounded  and  furnished  raiment. 

This  seems  a  pitiful  background  for  the  staging  of  the  most  stirring  events 
that  were  soon  to  happen  in  the  world's  commerce.  In  a  search  for  a  shorter 
route  to  the  riches  of  the  far-famed  Orient,  the  hardy  mariners  of  the  West  had 
already  skirted  its  shores,  and  one  even  sailed  up  the  lordly  Hudson  only  to  return 
disheartened  and  defeated.  Yet  the  glowing  accounts  of  the  wonders  of  the  region, 
the  recognized  value  of  the  few  peltries  exchanged  for  trinkets  which  they 
brought  back,  set  all  Europe  ablaze  with  excitement.  And  in  October,  1614,  John 
of  Barneveldt,  receiving  a  deputation  of  merchants  from  Amsterdam,  then  and 
there  issued  them  a  Charter  giving  them  the  sole  right  to  trade  with  the  far-distant 
island,  which  for  the  first  time  they  called  Nieu  Amsterdam. 

So  began  the  commerce  of  New  York.  And  the  Legislature  of  our  State,  by 
appointing  a  special  commission  to  celebrate  the  Tercentenary  of  this  momentous 
event,  has  performed  an  act  of  signal  interest  to  all  the  people  of  the  country. 

The  New  York  Chamber  of  Commerce,  which  has  done  so  much  to  foster 
and  encourage  the  trade  of  New  York  and  which  has  been  officered  by  merchants 
of  great  distinction  during  all  its  career,  was  organized  in  Fraunces'  Tavern, 
corner  Broad  and  Pearl  Streets,  April  8,  1768,  in  the  same  room  in  which 
Washington  afterwards  took  farewell  of  his  officers.  This  splended  organization 
was  originally  composed  of  twenty- four  importers  and  traders,  with  Mr.  John 
Cruger  as  president.  It  has  borne  an  important  part  in  all  that  has  been  achieved 
to  make  New  York  the  leading  city  of  the  New  World  and  will  figure  promi- 
nently in  the  exercises  to  commemorate  the  Tercentenary. 

In  the  few  brief  pages  at  our  command  we  can  touch  on  but  a  short  period  of 
those  fateful  three  centuries.  So  we  confine  ourselves  practically  to  the  period 
marked  by  the  introduction  of  railroads  and  steamboats — perhaps  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all  the  successive  stages  of  New  York's  marvellous  commercial  development. 


[8] 


AN  EXTREMELY  INTERESTING  AND  ONE  OF  THE  EARLIEST  VIEWS  OF 
THE  CITY  SOON  AFTER  THE  REPUBLIC  WAS  FORMED,  IT  SHOWS  THE 
WEST  SIDE  OF  THE  CITY  FROM  THE  BATTERY  TO  A  POINT  JUST  BE- 
YOND TRINITY  CHURCH.  THE  "NEW  HOUSE  FOR  GENERAL  WASH 
INGTON"  (GOVERNMENT  HOUSE)  AND  THE  CHURN"  ARE  THE  MOST 
PROMINENT  FEATURES.  A  MAN-0  -WAR  AT  ANCHOR  IS  SHOWN  AT 
LEFT.  NO  OTHER  COPY  OF  THIS  RARE  ENGRAVING  IS  KNOWN  TO 
EXIST. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR.  PERCY    R.  PYNE.  2ND 


THE  TREATY  OF  GHENT,  1814 
ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND 

Of  all  the  cities  which  the  newly  formed  republic  contained,  none  suffered 
through  the  War  of  1812  as  did  New  York.  The  exhaustion  caused  by  the  Revo- 
lution had  scarcely  begun  to  wear  away  when  serious  trouble  with  France  ensued. 
It  is  a  half  remembered  fact  that  for  a  short  period  our  country  was  virtually  at 
war  with  France  and  hostilities  actually  took  place.  Before  the  matter  progressed 
further,  however,  Napoleon  saw  fit  to  alter  his  attitude  toward  the  Americans,  and 
a  settlement  of  the  dangerous  situation  was  accomplished;  but  it  left  its  marks  upon 
New  York's  maritime  commerce,  as  from  the  beginning  it  had  largely  depended 
upon  those  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships.  The  new  republic  had  made  vast 
strides  since  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  but  the  attitude  of  England  had  for  many 
years  been  a  serious  menace  to  its  growing  commerce.  Great  Britain  insisted  on 
her  alleged  right  to  impress  British  seamen  into  her  service  wherever  found.  And 
her  men-of-war  were  continually  seizing  American  ships  on  the  high  seas  for  this 
purpose.  Not  only  was  this  a  source  of  great  vexation,  but  it  frequently  left  ships 
short  handed,  and  in  some  cases  to  their  extreme  peril. 

The  United  States  had,  therefore,  already  endured  so  much  that  the  War  of 
1812  was  to  her  of  grave  concern,  and  it  is  perhaps  difficult  for  the  average  citizen  of 
to-day  to  realize  exactly  what  it  meant  to  the  New  Yorker  of  that  period.  The 
future  metropolis  was  then  a  city  of  only  about  90,000  inhabitants.  The  trouble 
had  already  lasted  long  enough  to  make  her  financial  position  one  of  peril.  She 
was  practically  without  funds  and  in  a  defenceless  state  when  the  news  of  a  contem- 
plated attack  upon  her  was  secretly  received.  Mayor  De  Witt  Clinton  issued  a 
stirring  appeal  to  the  citizens  calling  upon  them  to  offer  their  personal  services  and 
means  to  aid  in  completing  the  unfinished  fortifications.  Mrs.  Lamb's  admirable 
history  of  our  city  thus  describes  the  situation: 

"In  response  to  a  call  signed  by  Henry  Rutgers  and  Oliver  Wolcott,  an 
immense  throng  assembled  in  the  City  Hall  Park,  and  chose  from  the  Common 
Council  as  a  Committee  of  Defense,  Colonel  Nicholas  Fish,  Gideon  Tucker,  Peter 
Mesier,  George  Buckmaster  and  John  Nitchie,  clothed  with  ample  power  to  direct 
the  efforts  of  the  inhabitants  at  this  critical  moment  in  the  business  of  protection. 
The  work  commenced  on  the  heights  around  Brooklyn  the  same  day,  under  the 
direction  of  General  Joseph  G.  Swift.  Only  four  days  after  the  meeting  in  the 
Park,  the  Committee  of  Defense  reported  three  thousand  persons  laboring  with 
pickaxes,  shovels  and  spades.  Masonic  and  other  societies  went  in  bodies  to  the 
task;  the  Washington  Benevolent  Society,  an  organization  opposed  to  the  war, 
went  with  their  banner  bearing  the  portrait  of  Washington,  each  man  with  a  hand- 
kerchief containing  a  supply  of  food  for  the  day;  on  the  15th  the  city  newspapers 


[11] 


Splendid  Defence  Work  by  the  Citizens 


were  suspended  that  all  hands  might  work  on  the  fortifications;  two  hundred  jour- 
neymen printers  went  over  together ;  two  hundred  weavers ;  a  large  procession  of 
butchers  bearing  the  flag  used  by  them  in  the  great  Federal  procession  of  1789,  on 
which  was  an  ox  prepared  for  slaughter;  numerous  manufacturing  companies  with 
all  their  men,  and  the  colored  people  in  crowds.  On  the  20th  five  hundred  men 
went  to  Harlem  Heights  to  work  upon  intrenchments  there,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
fifteen  hundred  Irishmen  crossed  into  Brooklyn  for  the  same  purpose;  school 
teachers  and  their  pupils  went  together  to  give  their  aid,  and  little  boys,  too  small 
to  handle  a  spade  or  pickaxe,  carried  earth  on  shingles.  It  was  a  scene  never  to 
be  forgotten.  One  morning  the  people  of  Bushwick,  Long  Island,  appeared,  accom- 
panied by  their  pastor,  Rev.  John  Bassett,  who  opened  the  operations  with  prayer, 
and  remained  all  day  distributing  refreshments  and  encouraging  the  laborers. 
Citizens  from  neighboring  towns  and  from  New  Jersey  proffered  their  services." 

It  will  readily  be  seen,  therefore,  that  the  war  was  a  stern  reality  to  every 
individual  in  the  city — a  vastly  different  thing  to  what  we  recall  in  connec- 
tion with  our  recent  struggle  with  Spain.  Notwithstanding  the  brilliant  series  of 
victories  achieved  by  the  American  arms  the  results  entailed  hardships  of  the  most 
severe  kind,  and  the  public  mind  was  sorely  depressed.  But  the  gloomiest  moment 
the  city  had  ever  experienced  was  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  relieved.  The  ship 
Fortune  arrived  in  the  bay  under  a  flag  of  truce  bearing  the  news  that  peace  had 
been  declared,  and  that  the  Treaty  of  Ghent  was  an  accomplished  fact.  We  again 
quote  from  Mrs.  Lamb: 

"It  was  late  Saturday  evening.  If  the  city  had  been  struck  by  hghtning,  the 
news  could  not  have  spread  with  more  rapidity  than  the  word  PEACE.  People 
rushed  into  the  streets  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  Cannon  bellowed  and  thundered, 
bells  of  every  description  rang  in  one  triumphant  peal,  bonfires  were  lighted  at  the 
corners  of  the  streets,  rows  of  candles  were  placed  in  the  windows,  flags  were 
unfurled  from  steeples  and  domes,  and  night  was  literally  turned  into  day.  Strong 
men  wept  as  they  grasped  each  other  by  the  hand  in  silent  gratitude;  others  fell 
on  their  knees  and  offered  touching  prayers.  Amid  shouts  and  huzzas,  expresses 
were  sent  out  in  every  direction.  No  one  stopped  to  inquire  about  the  terms  of 
the  treaty.  It  was  enough  to  know  that  peace  was  proclaimed.  The  Sabbath  that  fol- 
lowed was  a  day  of  Thanksgiving.  There  was  joy  all  over  the  land,  and  especially 
along  the  maritime  frontier.  Schools  were  given  a  holiday  in  every  town  as  the 
news  came ;  the  whole  people  quitting  their  employments,  hastened  to  congratulate 
one  another  at  the  relief,  not  only  from  foreign  war,  but  from  the  impending  cloud 
of  internal  and  civil  struggle." 

With  the  ending  of  hostilities  the  merchants  of  New  York  at  once  took  ener- 
getic measures  to  regain  the  commerce  lost  during  the  war,  and  such  was  their 
industry  and  enterprise  that  a  few  short  months  sufficed  to  place  them  once  more 
in  the  vanguard  of  prosperity.  The  whole  country  felt  the  impetus  of  New  York's 
activity  and  profited  by  her  example.  In  a  few  short  years  her  advancement  was  so 
remarkable  as  to  attract  attention  from  the  outside  world  in  a  manner  wholly 
unexpected,  and  to  result  in  a  huge  and  rapid  increase  in  population. 


[12] 


Hinu  of  3furt  (Srnrgr,  uiitlj  tt|p  CCitvj  nf  Nnu  ffurk, 
from  tljr  S>0utluitfBt.    About  IZBO 


THIS  ENGRAVING  BY  CARWITHAM.  PRINTED  FOR  CARINGTON 
BOWLES.  MAP  AND  PRINT  SELLERS.  AT  NO.  69  IN  ST.  PAUL'S. 
LONDON.  IS  AN  EXCELLENT  VIEW  OF  THE  BATTERY  AND  FORT  AS 
IT  APPEARED  WHEN  NEW  YORK  WAS  A  FLOURISHING  ENGLISH 
COLONY.  ALREADY  A  NUMBER  OF  CHURCHES  ARE  SEEN.  AND 
BUILDINGS  OF  A  SUBSTANTIAL  CHARACTER  APPEAR. 
THIS  COPY  IS  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  SCARCE,  EARLY  COLORED  ISSUE. 
BEFORE  CHANGE  OF  TITLE  AND  P  U  BLIS  H  E  R.  AN  D  IS  EXCEEDINGLY 
RARE. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION   OF  MR.  PERCT    R    PVNE.  2ND 


BEGINNINGS  OF  FOREIGN  IMMIGRATION 


At  the  close  of  Dutch  dominion  in  America  (1674)  the  total  population  of 
New  Amsterdam,  thenceforward  New  York,  did  not  exceed  4,700,  including  a  not 
inconsiderable  number  of  English,  French,  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  besides  bond- 
men and  slaves.  The  two  first  were  always  an  important  factor  in  the  Dutch  settle- 
ment, and  it  is  a  striking  tribute  to  the  strength  of  the  Dutch  character  that  it  should 
have  left  so  deep  an  impress  for  all  time  on  the  development  of  Manhattan  in  spite 
of  the  paucity  in  numbers  of  that  nation. 

Professor  Fiske,  in  his  "Beginings  of  New  England,"  recites  with  evident 
pride  that  for  almost  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  the  great  Puritan  exodus, 
practically  no  emigration  penetrated  New  England  from  any  other  nation  except 
Scotland,  and  that  as  a  consequence  the  English  strain  in  New  England  was  purer 
and  better  than  in  the  Mother  Country  itself. 

The  prominence  of  New  York  in  the  Revolution  (for  she  was  the  storm  centre 
from  first  to  last) ,  naturally  brought  within  her  borders  many  men  from  neighbor- 
ing states,  quick  to  realize  her  wonderful  natural  trading  advantages.  It  was  quite 
reasonable,  therefore,  upon  conclusion  of  that  struggle  to  expect  a  considerable 
immigration  from  New  England,  from  the  Quakers  and  Virginians.  But  the  most 
sanguine  well  wisher,  however,  could  not  foresee  that  for  the  next  thirty  years  the 
cream  of  the  world's  offerings  would  be  to  the  city  on  the  insignificant  island  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Hudson  River.  Such,  however,  proved  to  be  the  case,  and  as  fortune 
would  have  it,  the  quality  was  of  the  same  desirable  strain  that  had  made  for  the 
greatness  of  New  England. 

In  addition  to  English  emigration,  Scotland  furnished  a  goodly  number. 
Beyond  these  two,  and  the  natural  increase  of  the  population  itself,  there  were  little 
or  no  additions.  Speaking  the  same  language,  alike  in  religious  convictions, 
inheriting,  as  was  natural,  the  same  liberty-loving  instincts,  and  being  withal  kins- 
men to  a  great  degree,  the  problem  of  assimilation  was  greatly  simplified.  This 
fortuitous  combination  continued  without  interruption  for  almost  a  third  of  a  cen- 
tury. And  until  1820  nothing  occurred  to  interfere  with  the  harmonious  and  natural 
growth  of  the  new  nation,  whose  roots  were  now  firmly  planted  and  whose  future, 
no  matter  what  happened,  would  forever  partake  of  the  parental  beginnings. 

Shortly  after  that  date,  a  tide  of  emigration  set  in  which  was  unlike  anything 
the  world  had  ever  seen.  Multitudes  left  the  Old  World  for  the  New.  Various 
economic  causes  impelled  this  sudden  emigration.  Arkwright's  invention  of  the 
spinning  jenny  had  already  caused  much  perturbation  among  the  needle  workers 
of  England  and  Scotland.  Multitudes  of  these  hand-workers  seemed  doomed  to 
practical  extinction.  In  France,  shops  in  which  Arkwright's  machinery  was  suc- 
cessfully at  work  were  mobbed  and  wrecked  by  tailors.  And  in  Scotland  a  popular 


[15] 


Tremendous  Immigration  from  Ireland 


subscription  was  raised  to  ship  ten  thousand  seamstresses  to  Canada  and  Australia, 
but  many  of  them  ultimately  found  their  way  to  America,  to  find  not  work,  but 
homes,  instead.  With  the  invention  of  Eli  Whitney's  cotton  gin,  which  came  a  few 
years  later,  the  world's  supply  of  cotton  was  increased  an  hundredfold,  and  as  a 
fabric,  its  use  multiplied  with  marvellous  rapidity. 

As  already  the  chief  port  in  the  New  World,  New  York  at  once  assumed  a 
leading  position  in  the  financing,  shipping  and  marketing  of  this  great  staple.  And 
to  handle  this  enormous  business,  manual  labor  in  corresponding  quantity  was  con- 
stantly in  demand  and  the  steady  stream  of  emigration  from  all  parts  of  the  world 
was  absorbed  almost  as  soon  as  received. 

Ireland  was  the  most  prominent  birthplace  of  the  newcomers,  and  the  emigra- 
tion once  started,  it  seemed  as  if  the  tide  would  never  stop  until  the  last  hut  in  the 
Emerald  Isle  was  deserted.  In  a  short  time  nearly  every  other  man  you  met  in 
New  York  was  Irish.  They  swarmed  everywhere  and  filled  every  occupation. 
Large  sections  of  the  city  were  virtually  given  over  to  them,  and  no  matter  where 
you  turned,  a  smiling  son  of  Erin  was  there  to  greet  you. 

Prior  to  this  period,  Catholicism  had  little  or  no  standing  in  the  community. 
Adherents  of  that  Church  were  small  in  number.  Yet,  although  the  feeling  against 
this  faith  was  very  strong  throughout  the  rest  of  the  Colonies,  New  York,  with  that 
tolerance  which  has  always  been  her  chief  characteristic,  elected  among  her  first 
Governors  an  Irishman  and  a  Catholic.  A  tablet  to  his  memory  was  recently 
erected  at  St.  Luke's  in  Barclay  Street,  from  which  we  can  surmise  the  esteem  in 
which  he  was  held  by  the  community.   It  reads  as  follows : 

In  Memory  of 

THOMAS  DONGAN 
Born  1634  Died  1715 

Earl  of  limerick,  General  in  the  armies  of  England  and  France.    Irish  Patriot  and  devoted 
Catholic.   Governor  of  New  York  1683-1688. 

Father  of  the  first  representative  assembly  and  author  of  the  Charter  of  Rights  and  Privileges, 
granting  popular  government,  religious  toleration,  trial  by  jury,  immunity  from  martial  law,  free- 
dom from  arbitrary  arrest.  Framer  of  the  first  City  Charters  for  Albany  and  New  York;  Founder 
of  Latin  Schools  under  Catholic  auspices  and  teachers. 

THIS  TABLET 

Erected  by  the  Columbian  Assembly  fourth  degree  Knights  of  Columbus. 

Oct.  8th,  1911. 

This  Church,  however,  had  now  increased  tremendously  both  in  power  and 
numbers.  For  not  only  had  Ireland  sent  a  huge  contingent  of  members,  but 
Germany  and  France  as  well.  While  there  was  no  outward  and  visible  sign  of 
hostility  to  this  faith,  the  old  Colonial  antagonism  against  it  still  lingered  and  was 
fanned  into  flame  by  an  attempt  to  obtain  some  of  the  public  school  money  for 
parochial  purposes.  The  attempt  was  defeated  and  was  never  again  renewed.  It 
gave  rise  to  a  good  deal  of  anticlerical  feeling  at  the  time  and  it  was  several  years 
before  it  died  out. 

New  York  hardly  had  time  to  digest  the  enormous  mass  of  Irish  immigrants 
before  it  was  called  upon  to  perform  a  similar  service  for  another  nation — the  Ger- 


[16] 


COPYRIGHT.  19)3    H    C,  BROWN 


(Fltr  ifatmuts  lirrlr  lirui  of  Wrro  fork,  1303:  3urst  g>tatr 


THIS  RARE  VIEW  WAS  PAINTED  BY  W  BIRCH.  AND  ENGRAVED  ON 
COPPERPLATE  BY  SAMUEL  SEYMOUR.  IT  WAS  PUBLISHED  IN 
1803  BY  BIRCH  AT  SPRINGLAND.  NEAR  BRISTOL.  PENNSYLVANIA. 
IT  IS  A  CHARMING  DISTANT  VIEW  OF  THE  YOUNG  CITY  WHOSE  SKY 
LINE  AT  THAT  TIME  GAVE  NO  SUGGESTION  OF  THE  TOWERING 
STRUCTURES   OF  TO-DAY. 

CONSIDERABLE  INTEREST  ATTACHES  TO  THIS  PRiNT  ON  ACCOUNT 
OF  A  CHANGE  WHICH  WAS  MADE  IN  THE  DRAWING  IN  THE  SECOND 
ISSUE.  THE  WHITE  HORSE  DISAPPEARS.  AND  A  GROUP  OF  FIGURES 
TAKES  ITS  PLACE.  THE  LATER  EDITION  IS  KNOWN  AS  THE  PIC  NIC 
PARTY.  '  SO  THAT  OUR  READERS  MAY  SEE  FOR  THEMSELVES  THE 
DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  A  "FIRST"  AND  A  '  SECOND  '  STATE.  WE 
ALSO  REPRODUCE  THE  LATTER  AS  THE  NEXT  ILLUSTRATION. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR.  ROBERT  GOELET, 


The  Irish  Are  Followed  by  the  Germans 


mans.  This  influx  occurred  after  the  Revolution  in  Germany  in  1848  and  brought 
many  excellent  and  worthy  citizens  who  were  afterward  to  play  a  distinguished 
part  in  the  affairs  of  the  Republic.  For  a  while,  however,  it  seemed  as  if  New 
York  had  more  Germans  than  Berlin  and  more  Irish  than  Dublin. 

While  the  tendency  of  these  early  emigrants  was  to  perpetuate  the  customs 
and  language  of  their  native  lands,  it  soon  became  apparent  that  their  children 
were  bent  upon  becoming  thoroughly  Americanized,  thus  simplifying  the  problem  of 
assimilation.  When  the  Civil  War  broke  out,  the  country  found  many  regiments 
from  New  York  made  up  exclusively  of  foreigners  fighting  for  the  flag  of  their 
adopted  country,  and  both  the  Irish  and  the  Germans  gave  freely  of  their  blood 
and  their  treasure  in  defence  of  the  Union. 

The  immense  expansion  in  trade  and  commerce  which  followed  the  opening  of 
the  Erie  Canal;  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California;  the  opening  up  of  the  West 
by  the  Pacific  railroads;  the  tremendous  results  following  the  successful  invention 
of  the  reaper  by  Cyrus  McCormick  and  the  telegraph  by  Morse,  and  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  cable  by  Field,  continued  to  attract  to  our  city  a  stream  of  emigration 
that  has  practically  never  ceased.  Where  we  formerly  had  the  Irish  and  the  Ger- 
mans dominant,  we  now  have  Italians  in  such  huge  numbers  that  the  Irish  seem  lost 
in  comparison,  while  the  Germans  are  completely  swallowed  up. 

In  addition  to  the  Italians,  vast  hordes  of  Russians,  Poles,  Hungarians,  Slavs, 
Greeks,  Bulgarians  and  Swedes  are  now  conspicuous  features  of  the  city's  popula- 
tion, and  the  supply  seems  unending. 

New  York  is,  and  always  has  been,  a  cosmopolitan  city.  Almost  from  its 
inception  many  languages  were  spoken  in  its  streets,  and  at  the  close  of  the  Revo- 
lution, as  we  have  said,  there  were  no  less  than  eighteen  different  tongues  in  daily 
use.  To-day,  there  are  probably  representatives  from  every  known  race  and  nation 
in  the  world,  and  the  Tower  of  Babel  is  the  only  other  instance  known  where  more 
languages  were  spoken  than  in  the  streets  of  New  York.  The  changes  which  occur 
are  so  rapid  and  so  overwhelming  that  what  is  recorded  to-day  is  frequently  subject 
to  instant  revision.  This  question  of  emigration  is  only  one  of  many  that  operate 
to  effect  a  temporary  change.  For,  incredible  though  it  may  seem,  these  huge 
foreign  additions  are  ultimately  assimilated,  though  the  process  takes  time. 

While  our  streets  may  at  times  bear  a  decidedly  foreign  aspect,  yet  they  reflect 
what  the  city  is  at  the  moment.  And  in  the  next  article  we  shall  speak  of  these 
same  streets  and  show  how  much  there  is  even  in  a  study  of  their  names. 


[19] 


HOW  SOME  OF  OUR  WELL-KNOWN  STREETS  GOT  THEIR 

NAMES 


By  Frank  W.  Crane 

A  mass  of  history  is  bound  up  in  the  names  of  New  York's  streets. 

Ask  any  moderately  well-read  resident  who  perhaps  prides  himself  on  being 
an  old  New  Yorker  why  Vandam  Street  in  Greenwich  Village  is  so  called,  and  if 
his  memory  of  Dutch  chronicles  impels  him  to  answer  from  Rip  Van  Dam,  try  an- 
other, and  see  if  he  can  tell  anything  about  the  worthy  Rip.  Or,  again,  the  origin 
of  Marketfield  Street,  that  little  obscure  lane  running  off  from  Broad  Street  just 
below  Beaver,  might  be  called  in  question.  A  good  guess,  the  name  being  more 
explanatory,  would  suggest  that  this  was  the  market  quarters  in  early  Dutch  days 
when  the  fort  on  what  is  now  the  Battery  and  a  few  houses  clustered  about  it  com- 
prised all  of  the  forthcoming  imperial  city  of  New  York,  then  New  Amsterdam. 

Vesey  and  Barclay  Streets  are  somewhat  easier,  especially  if  one  is  a  good  Episco- 
palian and  somewhat  familiar  with  Trinity  Church  history,  for  they  perpetuate  the  names 
of  the  first  and  second  rectors  of  Trinity.  Division  Street  may  be  a  little  harder  to  ex- 
plain. Its  name  tells  something  of  its  history,  but  the  reason  of  it  is  not  clear  until  one 
learns  that  it  marked  the  boundary  line  between  the  extensive  Rutgers  farm  on  the  south  and 
the  Delancey  farm  on  the  north.  Other  names  that  will  bear  interesting  research  are  Nassau, 
Gold,  Cedar,  Pine,  Liberty,  Bank,  Baxter,  Eldridge,  Forsyth,  Mott,  Pell,  and  Chatham, 
these  being  selected  at  random  from  a  list  that  might  be  considerably  extended. 

There  is  no  end  of  names  in  the  lower  part  of  the  town  to  recall  the  days  of  the  Dutch 
occupation,  but,  singular  as  it  may  seem,  only  one  bears  the  name  of  any  of  the  Dutch 
Governors,  and  that,  Stuyvesant  Street,  is  far  to  the  north  of  the  little  town  that  Peter  Stuy- 
vesant  was  obliged  to  hand  over  to  the  English  in  1664.  It  is  a  diminutive  street  jutting  off 
from  Third  Avenue  near  Ninth  Street  and  running  to  Second  Avenue,  and  seems  hardly  in 
keeping  with  the  greatness  of  the  doughty  Governor.  It  is  in  a  good  location,  for  it  cuts 
through  the  famous  Stuyvesant  bouwerie  where  the  Governor  was  doubtless  happier  in  his 
closing  days  than  when  he  was  ruling  the  city.  Near  by  is  Stuyvesant  Park,  which  was  given 
to  the  city  by  the  Stuyvesant  heirs  about  seventy  years  ago. 

Names  in  honor  of  prominent  Englishmen  are  not  as  numerous  as  those  of  Dutch  origin. 
Most  of  those  that  remain  have  no  affiliation  with  royalty,  those  reminders  of  British  rule 
having  been  carefully  expunged  after  the  Revolution.  That  is  why  we  have  Liberty  Street 
instead  of  Crown,  Cedar  instead  of  Queen,  and  Pine  instead  of  King,  the  pre-Revolutionary 
designations  of  royalty  being  regarded  as  out  of  place  with  the  patriotic  sentiments  of  the 
new  Republic.  A  portion  of  Broadway  above  City  Hall  bore  the  resounding  term  of  King 
George  Street,  and,  of  course,  that  passed  away  early. 

Chatham  Street,  which  now  only  remains  in  Chatham  Square,  but  originally  comprised 
all  of  Park  Row,  was  not  molested  for  some  time.  It  honored  the  great  William  Pitt,  Earl 
of  Chatham,  for  his  friendly  attitude  toward  the  Colonies  during  the  Stamp-Act  troubles. 


[20] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913    H    C  BROWN 

Qlhe  iPammts  Sirrh  Birui  nf  25>ut  tjork,  1B03:  &rrond  §>tatr 


SECOND  STATE  OF  THE  BIRCH  VIEW.  SHOWING  THE  PIC-NIC  PARTY 
IN  PLACE  OF  THE  WHITE  HORSE. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  PERCY   R    PYNE  2NO 


Old  Nassau  Street  Named  after  the  Prince  of  Nassau 


A  marble  statue  of  the  Earl  was  subscribed  for  and  erected  in  Wall  Street,  near  William,  on 
September  7,  1770,  the  inscription  stating  that  it  was  a  "public  testimony  of  the  grateful 
sense  the  Colony  of  New  York  retains  of  the  many  eminent  services  he  rendered  America, 
particularly  in  promoting  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act." 

It  was  overturned  and  broken  by  British  soldiers  when  they  entered  New  York  in 
retaliation  for  the  destruction  of  the  leaden  statue  of  King  George  on  Bowling  Green,  but  the 
torso  still  remains  among  the  early  New  York  relics  in  the  New  York  Historical  Society. 
Nassau  is  about  the  only  street  survivor  bearing  a  name  of  royal  lineage,  being  in  honor 
of  the  Prince  of  Nassau,  who  afterward  shared  the  honors  of  King  of  England  with  his 
wife,  Queen  Mary.  The  lower  part  of  Chatham  Street  lost  its  name  early  in  the  last  cen- 
tury in  view  of  its  location  opposite  the  park,  and  Park  Row  was  eventually  continued  up  to 
its  junction  with  the  Bowery.  William  Street  is  due  to  William  Beekman,  through  whose 
farm  it  ran. 

Nassau  Street,  like  Maiden  Lane,  which  has  attained  high  fame  in  being  the  first  street 
in  New  York  to  have  a  tablet  erected  to  its  history,  once  had  a  name  of  more  local  signifi- 
cance. It  was  known  two  centuries  or  more  ago  as  the  "road  that  leads  by  the  pie  woman's." 
Evidently  this  unknown  woman  had  touched  the  heart  through  the  stomach  of  many  of  her 
neighbors  to  lend  such  distinction  to  the  thoroughfare  by  her  humble  bake  shop.  The  popu- 
larity of  pie  still  lingers  in  the  vicinity,  for  in  Ann  Street  hard  by,  all  the  way  from  Broad- 
way to  Nassau,  more  pies  are  probably  dispensed  to  the  army  of  office  boys  and  young 
clerks  from  the  tall  office  buildings  than  are  sold  within  a  single  day  in  any  other  similar  area 
in  the  city.  In  1696  Capt.  Teunis  De  Kay  petitioned  the  corporation  that  "a  carte-way  be 
made  leading  out  of  the  Broad  Street  to  the  street  that  leads  by  the  Pye-woman's,  leading 
to  the  commons  of  the  city  (now  City  Hall  Park),  and  that  he  will  undertake  to  do  the  same 
provided  he  may  have  the  soyle." 

Broad  Street  in  Dutch  days  was  the  principal  Canal,  known  as  "De  Heere  Graft." 
The  width  of  the  street,  so  unusual  in  lower  New  York,  is  particularly  noticeable,  but  the 
reason  is  clear  when  one  realizes  that  a  wide  canal,  large  enough  for  market  boats  to  navi- 
gate, entered  the  street  near  its  southern  terminus  at  the  river  and  extended  nearly  to  Wall 
Street.  The  canal  was  benefited  by  a  natural  rivulet  which  ran  through  it.  About  1657  the 
burgomasters  had  the  sides  of  the  stream  planked,  making  a  respectable  canal,  and  it  remained 
in  use  until  1676.    There  was  also  a  small  canal  in  Beaver  Street. 

Canal  Street  had  one  of  these  waterways,  and  in  this  street  the  old  name  has  been  re- 
tained. It  was  not  of  Dutch  origin,  however,  but  was  cut  through  about  1805  for  the  pur- 
pose of  draining  the  old  fresh  water  pond  or  Kalch  Hook  which  covered  a  large  area  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Tombs  or  Halls  of  Justice.  There  was  once  good  fishing  in  this  pond, 
and  excellent  skating  in  winter,  but  it  became  a  nuisance  as  the  city  grew  up  around  it  and 
the  canal  was  decided  upon  to  drain  off  the  waters  of  the  pond  and  the  low  lands  of  Anthony 
Rutgers'  farm,  which  surrounded  a  good  part  of  it.  The  canal  was  cut  through  the  swampy 
land  of  Lispenard  meadows  to  the  west,  draining  into  the  Hudson.  The  draining  of  the  pond 
made  it  more  of  a  menace  to  health  than  before,  and  about  ten  years  later  the  pond  was  filled 
up  and  the  canal  was  turned  into  a  street. 

Water  Street  is  easily  explained  from  the  fact  that  originally  it  was  the  one  nearest  the 
East  River,  but  when  additional  land  was  filled  in  the  new  street  near  the  river  became  Front 
Street.  Whitehall  Street,  near  the  Battery,  recalls  the  magnificent  white  mansion  built  for 
Gov.  Stuyvesant.  Stone  Street  worthily  bears  its  name  from  being  the  first  of  the  Dutch 
streets  to  be  paved  with  blocks  of  stone.  Moore  Street  was  named  from  an  old  merchant,  John 
Moore,  who  had  his  warehouses  near  the  river. 


[  23  ] 


Early  Trinity  Churchwardens 


Rector  Street,  almost  opposite  Wall  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  is  sufficiently  ex- 
planatory as  a  bordering  street  to  Trinity  Church.  Exchange  Alley  in  Colonial  times  was 
Oyster  Pasty  Alley.  North  of  Trinity,  extending  on  both  sides  of  Broadway,  was  the  old 
Damen  farm,  the  greater  part  of  which  eventually  came  into  the  possession  of  Olaff  S.  Van 
Cortlandt  and  Teunis  Dey.  Olaff  Van  Cortlandt  was  one  of  the  great  landowners  of  the  time 
and  one  of  the  worthiest  of  the  early  Dutch  settlers,  and  his  numerous  descendants  have 
added  to  the  prominence  of  the  name.  His  son,  Stephanus,  was  Mayor  in  1677  and  again 
in  1686  and  1687.  In  1733  the  heirs  partitioned  the  property  and  laid  out  Cortlandt  Street. 
Teunis  Dey  was  a  gardener  and  miller,  his  windmill  being  near  the  river,  and  were  it  not  that 
his  name  is  retained  in  Dey  Street  he  would  hardly  be  remembered. 

On  the  east  side  of  Broadway,  from  Maiden  Lane  above  Fulton,  was  the  ancient  Van 
Tienhoven  farm.  Most  of  it  finally  became  the  property  of  an  association  of  five  shoemakers 
and  tanners  and  is  popularly  known  as  the  Shoemakers'  pasture.  Most  prominent  of  these 
was  John  Harpending,  whose  homestead  was  on  the  corner  of  Maiden  Lane  and  Broadway. 
From  him  John  Street  gets  its  name,  and  the  valuable  holdings  of  the  Dutch  Reformed 
Church  in  that  locality,  between  Broadway  and  William  Street,  come  from  his  bequest  to  that 
denomination  of  the  greater  part  of  his  property.  Fulton  Street  was  so  named  in  honor  of 
Robert  Fulton  soon  after  the  success  of  his  Clermont  in  1807.  It  was  originally  Fair  Street 
on  the  east  side  of  Broadway  and  Partition  Street  on  the  west,  denoting  the  partition  of 
the  adjoining  properties. 

Having  solved  the  problem  of  the  particular  John  who  gave  his  name  to  that  street,  it 
is  natural  to  suppose  that  some  one  will  ask,  "Well,  who  was  Ann?" 

In  the  old  book  and  junk  shop  annals  of  the  city  that  narrow  street  has  been  famous. 
It  was  not  always  the  headquarters  for  cast-off  material.  With  the  surrounding  territory  Ann 
Street  once  formed  a  part  of  the  first  Dutch  Governor's  garden.  Later  Gov.  Dongan  got  the 
property,  and  his  heirs  sold  it  in  1762  to  Thomas  White,  one  of  the  great  merchants  of  the 
day.  He  cut  the  land  up  into  building  lots,  and  what  more  fitting  monument  could  he  pay 
to  his  wife  than  to  name  one  of  the  streets  for  her !  It  was  Mrs.  Ann  White  who  ceded  to  the 
city  the  little  alley  between  Broadway  and  Nassau  Street  known  as  Theatre  Alley,  reminiscent 
of  the  days  when  the  popular  Park  Theatre  stood  just  above  the  Park  Row  Building  over- 
looking the  square. 

Several  other  streets  bear  the  names  of  the  estimable  wives  of  former  landowners  and 
influential  citizens.  There  is  Hester  Street,  on  the  east  side,  named  for  Hester  Leisler,  the 
wife  of  Benjamin  Rynders,  a  worthy  burgher  of  Dutch  days,  and  whose  name  was  formerly 
attached  to  Mulberry  Street.  In  the  Greenwich  Village  section  we  find  Cornelia  Street,  hon- 
oring Cornelia  Rutgers,  a  daughter  of  Anthony  Rutgers,  whose  name  is  preserved  in  an  east 
side  thoroughfare.  Cornelia  Rutgers  married  Jacob  Leroy,  a  son  of  old  Daniel  Leroy,  and 
his  name  has  also  gone  down  to  posterity  in  Greenwich  Village. 

The  two  streets  bearing  the  name  of  Jones  have  often  aroused  curiosity.  Some  one 
might  reasonably  inquire  why,  with  two  Jones  Streets,  there  is  no  Smith  Street.  There  was, 
in  Dutch  times,  the  lower  part  of  William  Street  being  known  as  Smith,  and  the  fact  that 
the  low  land  at  the  foot  of  Maiden  Lane  was  originally  known  as  Smit's  Vly  shows  that  the 
Dutchman  with  the  English  name  tilled  his  fields  near  by. 

But  to  get  back  to  the  Jones  history.  Jones  Street  was  ceded  to  the  city  about  1799, 
being  called  so  in  honor  of  Dr.  Humphrey  Jones,  one  of  the  noted  practitioners  of  his  day. 
Great  Jones  Street,  jutting  off  Broadway  near  Bond,  ran  through  the  land  of  Samuel  Jones, 
a  grandson  of  Chief  Justice  David  Jones  and  Recorder  of  the  city  from  1789  to  1795.  When 

[24] 


THIS  REMARKABLE  OLD  LITHOGRAPH  GIVES  AN  EXCELLENT  IDEA 
OF  THE  STREET  BEFORE  THE  GREAT  FIRE  OF  1835.  THE  BUILDINGS. 
AS  YOU  SEE.  ARE  OF  A  RATHER  INCONSEQUENTIAL  CHARACTER. 
THE  MERCHANTS'  EXCHANGE  BEING  THE  ONLY  ONE  OF  ARCHITEC- 
TURAL IMPORTANCE.  THE  FEATURE  OF  SPECIAL  INTEREST  IN  THIS 
PARTICULAR  PRINT  IS  THE  MARGINS  EACH  PARTICULAR  BUILDING 
ON  BOTH  SIDES  OF  THE  STREET  IS  CAREFULLY  SHOWN.  AND  AT 
THE  TOP  IS  A  DISTANT  VIEW  OF  BROOKLYN  HEIGHTS  ONLY  THREE 
COPIES  OF  THIS  LITHOGRAPH  ARE  KNOWN  IN  THIS  STATE,  THERE 
ARE  LATER  IMPRESSIONS.  HOWEVER.  BUT  NONE  SHOW  THE  BORDER 
WITH   THE  BUILDINGS. 

ADJOINING  THE  EXCHANGE  WAS  THE  ORIGINAL  JEWELRY  STORE 
OF  BENEDICT  BROS.  JOHN  J  ASTOR  ADVISED  THE  ELDER  BENE- 
DICT TO  PURCHASE  THIS  SITE.  WHICH  HE  DID.  AND  AFTERWARDS 
RESOLD  IT  AT  GREAT  PROFIT.  THE  BENEDICT  BROS.  HAVE  DONE 
BUSINESS  FOR  NEARLY  A  CENTURY.  FIRST  IN  WALL  STREET.  AND 
LATER   IN    BROADWAY.   BELOW  FULTON 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  RORERT  GOELET 


Trinity  Names  Many  Streets  after  its  Vestrymen 


Samuel  Jones  wanted  to  perpetuate  his  family  name  he  found  that  an  earlier  member  had 
jumped  his  claim,  as  it  were.  Therefore,  that  there  might  be  no  mistake  as  to  his  street,  he 
had  no  compunctions  in  styling  it  Great  Jones.  There  is  also  a  Jones  Lane  in  the  old  ship- 
ping centre,  running  off  Front  Street. 

When  Trinity  Corporation  was  opening  new  streets  and  ceding  them  to  the  city  it 
wanted  to  honor  Bishop  Moore  but  found  that  the  name  had  been  given  long  before  to  the 
little  street  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city.  Trinity's  street,  however,  was  well  to  the  north 
and  hence  North  Moore  was  an  easy  suggestion  out  of  the  difficulty. 

Were  it  not  for  the  policy  long  ago  adopted  by  Trinity  Church  to  give  the  names  of  its 
Wardens  and  Vestrymen  to  many  of  the  streets  as  they  were  laid  out  from  time  to  time  through 
the  broad  acres  of  its  Church  Farm,  more  than  one  of  the  great  leaders  in  the  early  mercantile 
and  social  life  of  the  city  would  now  be  forgotten.  These  commemorate  the  activities  of 
Gabriel  Ludlow,  Matthew  Clarkson,  Col.  Bayard,  John  Reade,  Joseph  Murray,  John  Cham- 
bers, Stephen  De  Lancey,  Robert  Watts,  Elias  Desbrosses,  Edward  Laight,  Dr.  John  Charl- 
ton, Humphrey  Jones,  Anthony  Lispenard,  Gov.  Morgan  Lewis,  Thomas  Barrow,  Jacob  Le- 
roy,  Frank  Dominick,  John  Clark,  Rufus  King,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Beach,  and  that  worthy  old 
Dutchman  Rip  Van  Dam. 

Many  of  these  streets  had  been  laid  out  before  the  Commissioners  of  1807  bequeathed 
to  the  city  the  rectangular  system  of  streets  and  avenues  which  many  would  like  to  see  changed 
in  certain  respects  by  cutting  broad,  diagonal  thoroughfares  through  some  of  the  busiest 
parts  of  the  city.  Fortunately  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  historical  antecedents  of  many 
of  the  streets,  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city  as  well  as  in  old  Greenwich  Village  and  on  the 
lower  east  side  below  Houston  Street,  they  were  not  disturbed  in  the  ruthless  straight- 
line  mapping  of  the  Commissioners,  and  their  names  hold  good  to-day,  to  add  to  the  his- 
torical interest  of  the  city,  besides  arousing  occasional  curiosity  concerning  their  nomenclature. 

In  1808  Trinity  ceded  to  the  city  the  ground  for  many  of  the  streets  running  through 
the  Church  Farm  in  old  Greenwich  Village,  and  in  addition  to  those  already  mentioned,  Green- 
wich, Hudson,  Varick,  Vestry,  and  Macdougal  Streets  obtained  their  names  about  this  time. 
The  Greenwich  Street  was  an  extension,  however,  of  the  same  thoroughfare  in  the  lower  part 
of  the  city  which  for  years  had  been  the  main  highway  to  the  old-time  village  northwest  of 
the  city  proper.  Greenwich  Village  for  years  was  one  of  the  health  resorts  of  the  city,  and 
previous  to  the  Revolution  magnificent  country  homes  lined  the  banks  of  the  Hudson. 

Greenwich  was  so  named  by  Sir  Peter  Warren,  the  English  Admiral  who  assisted  in 
the  capture  of  Louisburg  from  the  French  in  the  French  and  Indian  war  of  1756.  He 
bought  a  large  estate  there  several  years  before  he  became  famous,  and  erected  a  magnificent 
residence,  standing  in  the  block  bounded  by  the  present  Charles,  Perry,  Bleecker  and  Tenth 
Streets.  The  old  house  at  1  Broadway  was  for  a  time  his  city  residence.  Bleecker  Street  per- 
petuates the  family  name  and  the  extensive  Bleecker  farm  in  the  same  way  as  Beekman,  De- 
lancey,  Rutgers,  Bayard,  and  Cortlandt  show  the  influence  and  the  extensive  land  holdings 
of  these  families.  Perry  Street  came  in  after  the  War  of  1812  to  honor  the  Lake  Erie  victory 
of  Commodore  Oliver  Hazard  Perry.  Minetta  Street  recalls  the  existence  of  the  Minetta 
Brooklet  which  flowed  from  the  marshes  around  Washington  Square  westward  to  the  Hudson. 

Varick  and  Macdougal,  two  of  the  important  thoroughfares  of  old  Greenwich,  commem- 
orate Revolutionary  officers,  Col.  Richard  Varick,  who  was  Mayor  of  the  city  for  twelve 
years,  from  1789  to  1800,  and  Gen.  Alexander  McDougal,  one  of  the  old-time  Liberty  Boys. 
Vandam  Street  keeps  alive  the  memory  of  Rip  Van  Dam,  a  wealthy  Dutchman,  who  was  one 
of  the  early  shipbuilders  and  President  of  the  Council  in  1731.     Watts  Street  recalls  John 


[27] 


The  Yellow  Feveb 


Watts,  the  last  city  Recorder  under  the  crown,  while  Bethune  Street,  of  later  date,  com- 
memorates the  mercantile  and  charitable  activities  of  Divie  Bethune  and  his  wife,  Joanna. 

That  quiet,  staid  thoroughfare,  Bank  Street,  one  of  the  most  characteristic  survivors  of 
early  residential  days  in  Greenwich  Village,  gets  its  name  from  the  number  of  banks  that 
moved  there  during  the  cholera  and  yellow  fever  epidemics  less  than  a  century  ago.  John  Lam- 
bert, an  English  visitor  in  1807,  makes  an  interesting  comment  on  those  times. 

"As  soon  as  yellow  fever  makes  its  appearance,"  he  says,  "the  inhabitants  shut  up  their 
shops  and  fly  from  their  homes  into  the  country.  Those  who  cannot  go  far  on  account  of 
business  remove  to  Greenwich,  situate  on  the  border  of  the  Hudson  about  two  or  three  miles 
from  town.  The  banks  and  other  public  offices  also  remove  their  business  to  this  place  and 
markets  are  regularly  established  for  the  supply  of  the  inhabitants." 

Two  eminent  names  that  must  not  be  overlooked  in  Manhattan's  street  nomenclature  are 
Broome  and  Duane.  John  Broome  was  one  of  the  merchant  princes  of  the  city  after  the  Rev- 
olution, and  his  ships  brought  cargoes  from  all  ports  of  the  world.  He  was  President  of  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce  from  1785  to  1794,  a  State  Assemblyman,  and  Lieutenant-Governor. 
He  died  in  1810.    The  State  honored  him  in  1808  by  naming  one  of  the  counties  Broome. 

James  Duane  was  the  first  Mayor  of  the  city  after  the  Revolution,  holding  office  from 
1783  to  1788.  He  owned  a  country  estate  covering  what  is  now  Gramercy  Park.  He  was 
an  ardent  patriot  and  fled  from  the  city  when  the  British  took  possession.  He  held  many 
other  important  offices,  and  was  the  attorney  for  Trinity  Church  in  the  first  great  lawsuit  to 
determine  its  title  to  the  Church  Farm,  which  has  been  in  litigation  from  time  to  time  for  more 
than  a  century  by  various  heirs  of  Anneke  Jans. 

Baxter  Street,  associated  for  years  as  the  headquarters  for  cheap  clothing  stores,  was 
formerly  Orange  Street.  It  fell  into  bad  odor,  as  did  many  others  in  the  immediate  vicinity, 
and  in  order  to  give  it  a  better  character  the  City  Fathers,  soon  after  the  Mexican  War, 
changed  its  name  in  honor  of  Lieut.-Col.  Charles  Baxter.  He  was  a  New  Yorker  and  died 
in  the  City  of  Mexico  from  wounds  received  at  the  assault  on  Chapultepec.  His  remains 
were  brought  back  to  New  York,  and  there  was  a  public  funeral  in  the  City  Hall  and  he 
was  buried  in  the  Mexican  plot  at  Greenwood.  The  name  of  a  brave  officer  did  not  alter  the 
character  of  the  street,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  one  person  out  of  a  thousand  to-day  ever  heard 
of  Col.  Baxter. 

A  number  of  streets  were  named  after  the  War  of  1812  in  honor  of  warriors  who  were 
prominent  in  that  conflict.  Perry  Street  has  been  mentioned.  On  the  east  side  there  is 
quite  a  batch  of  these  1812  war  hero  thoroughfares,  including  Forsyth,  named  for  Col. 
Forsyth,  who  was  wounded  in  Canada;  Chrystie,  for  Lieut.-Col.  John  Chrystie,  killed  at  the 
Niagara  frontier;  Eldridge,  for  Lieut.  Eldridge,  scalped  in  Canada;  Allen,  for  Lieut.  Will- 
iam H.  Allen,  wounded  in  the  naval  fight  between  the  Argus  and  the  British  ship  Pelican; 
Ludlow,  for  Lieut.  Ludlow,  killed  in  action  between  the  Chesapeake  and  the  Shannon;  Pike, 
for  Gen.  Pike,  killed  in  the  attack  on  Toronto  in  1813.  Worth  Street  was  named  in  honor 
of  Gen.  Worth,  killed  in  the  Mexican  War.  It  supplanted  the  earlier  name  of  Anthony, 
after  Anthony  Rutgers,  through  whose  farm  it  ran. 

Dutchmen  and  Englishmen,  Revolutionary  heroes  and  officers  in  later  wars,  merchants, 
ministers,  lawyers,  men  of  renown,  and  those  whose  history  lies  buried  in  forgotten  records 
of  long  ago — New  York's  streets  present  a  most  interesting  array  of  many  of  the  best  char- 
acters whose  lives  have  influenced  the  city  for  good.  Of  Presidents  we  have  Washington, 
Jefferson,  Monroe,  and  Madison;  among  the  Revolutionary  lights  Lafayette  is  not  forgotten; 
Irving  Place  illustrates  the  esteem  in  which  Washington  Irving,  a  native  New  Yorker,  was 


[28] 


COPYRIGHT    1913.    H    C  BROWN 


(Turn-out  of  thr  Atnrrtran  Exurfas  (Company 


THE  BACKGROUND  SHOWS  THE  COMPANY'S  THEN  NEW  BUILDING. 
CORNER  HUDSON.  JAY  AND  STAPLE  STREETS.  1858.  AN  OLD-TIME 
LITHOGRAPH  PUBLISHED  BY  OTTO  BOTTICHER.  333  BROADWAY. 
AND  USED  FOR  ADVERTISING  PURPOSES.  DRAWN  FROM  NATURE. 
INTERESTING  ITEM  OF  EARLY  DAYS  IN  THE  EXPRESS  BUSINESS. 
AND  NOW   EXTREMELY  SCARCE 

THE  FIGURES  IN  THE  LEFT  FOREGROUND  AND  ALSO  IN  THE  WAGON 
WERE  THOSE  OF  HIGH  OFFICIALS  IN  THE  COMPANY  AND  WERE 
DRAWN  FROM  LIFE-A  CUSTOM  QUITE  GENERAL  IN  THOSE  DAYS. 
AND  FREQUENTLY  OBSERVED  IN  OTHER  SEMI-PUBLIC  PRINTS.  WHERE 
THE  FACES  WERE  COPIED  FROM  DAGUERREOTYPES  AND  INSERTED 
IN  THE  FIGURES.  (SEE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRINT.  MERCHANTS- 
EXCHANGE.  FIRE  PRINT  AND  OTHERS  ) 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  PERCY   R.  PYNE.  2ND. 


Curious  Old-time  Names 


held,  and  Waverly  Place  shows  the  influence  of  Scott,  that  thoroughfare  being  so  named 
during  the  time  that  his  popular  novels  were  being  issued.  Former  Mayors  of  the  city  have 
given  their  names  to  Willett,  Varick,  Cortlandt,  Bayard,  De  Peyster,  Duane  and  Clinton 
Streets.  Willett  Street  is  in  honor  not  of  the  first  Mayor,  but  of  Marinus  Willett,  one  of 
the  Sons  of  Liberty,  and  who  had  a  magnificent  country  home  in  the  vicinity  of  his  street. 
Sheriff  Street,  nearby,  also  commemorates  the  fact  that  Willett  was  for  years  a  popular 
Sheriff  of  the  town. 

As  late  as  1825  the  principal  fronts  of  the  blocks  on  Broadway,  on  the  west  side  be- 
tween Franklin  and  White  Streets,  and  on  the  east  side  between  White  and  Walker  Streets, 
were  in  primitive  soil,  and  enclosed  with  board  fences.  Many  of  the  older  streets  still  re- 
tained names  now  forgotten.  The  craze  for  a  change,  so  familiar  to  New  Yorkers  of  mod- 
ern date  in  their  loss,  for  example,  of  Amity,  Anthony,  Bancker,  Chatham  and  Robinson 
Streets  (to  name  only  the  first  that  come  to  mind),  has  swept  away  ancient  designations 
that  they  know  not  of.  Thus,  in  earlier  times,  South  William  Street  was  known  as  "Dirty 
Lane";  Cliff,  as  "Elbow  Street";  Nassau,  originally  as  "Pie  Woman's  Lane";  Beaver,  as 
"Slaughterhouse  Lane";  Broad,  as  "Smell  Street";  Elm,  as  "Republican  Alley";  Washing- 
ton Place,  from  University  Place  to  Fifth  Avenue,  as  "Shinbone  Alley."  Hanover  Street 
was  Sloat  Lane;  Exchange  Place  was  Garden  Street  from  Hanover  to  Broad,  and  thence 
to  Broadway  was  called  "Flat  and  Barrack  Hill,"  this  descent  being  then  a  favorite  place 
of  boys  for  "coasting."  The  narrow  passage  nearly  opposite — from  the  west  side  of  Broad- 
way to  Trinity  Place  (Church  Street) — was  colloquially,  if  not  legally,  termed  "Tin  Pot 
Alley,"  the  title  it  bears  to  the  present  day,  though  some  absurd  person  of  more  or  less  au- 
thority has  endeavored  to  effect  a  change  by  putting  on  an  adjacent  street-lamp  the  name 
"Exchange  Alley,"  to  denote  a  passage  wherein  less  exchange  takes  place  than  in  any  other 
throughout  the  entire  city.  We  have  noted  with  singular  pleasure  that  when  demolition  and 
rebuilding  were  in  progress  in  this  locality  that  staunch  New  Yorker,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Morgan 
Dix,  desiring  to  make  sure  the  perpetuation  of  a  time-honored  name,  prepared,  at  his  own 
care  and  cost,  a  decorated  tablet  of  graceful  design,  bearing  the  old  name,  which  was  built 
into  the  wall  of  the  new  structure  on  the  south  corner. 


Other  changes  at  this  time  were: 

OLD 

NEW 

OLD 

NEW 

.  Liberty  Street. 

Little  Dock  .  . 

.  South,  between 

Whitehall 

Dock   

.  Pearl,  between   Broad  and 

and  Old  Slip. 

Hanover  Square. 

Little  Queen 

.  Cedar. 

Duke  

.  South  William. 

,  Part  of  Pearl. 

Dyes   

Dey. 

,  Fulton,  between 

Broadway 

.  Fulton,   between  Broadway 

and  William. 

and  Cliff. 

.  Beaver,  between 

Broad  and 

.  Spruce 

William. 

King  George  . 

.  Pearl,  between 

Wall  and 

and  Pearl. 

Broadway. 

King  

.  Pine. 

,  Park  Place. 

St.  James  .  . . 

.  James. 

On  January  10,  1827,  Lombardy  was  changed  to  Monroe  Street;  and  Harman,  named 
after  Harmanus  Rutgers,  was  widened  on  the  east  side,  and  named  East  Broadway.  Black- 
well's  Island  was  at  this  time  still  in  private  hands.  More  than  two  centuries  ago  it  was  owned 
and  occupied  by  John  Manning,  an  ex-sheriff  of  New  York,  who  was  in  command  of  the  city  and 
surrendered  it  to  the  Dutch  on  their  attack  in  1673;  for  which  feat  he  was  promptly 


[31] 


When  the  Changes  Were  Made 


cashiered  by  the  English  when  they  had  renewed  their  possession.  Manning  left  the  island 
to  his  daughter,  the  wife  of  Robert  Blackwell.  The  City  bought  it  in  1828  for  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  The  islands  now  called  Ward's  and  Randall's  were  then  known  as  Great  and  Little 
Barn  Islands,  "Barn"  being  apparently  a  corruption  of  Barent,  an  earlier  name.  Even 
"Randall's"  seems  an  incorrect  title,  since  the  city  bought  this  property  in  1835  (also  for 
fifty  thousand  dollars)  from  the  executors  of  Jonathan  Randall,  who  had  given  twenty-four 
pounds  for  it  about  seventy  years  earlier.  This  island,  then  held  by  British  troops,  was  the 
scene  of  a  sharp  action  in  September,  1776,  when  the  assaulting  column  of  Americans  suf- 
fered a  repulse  with  the  loss  of  twenty-two  killed,  and  failed  to  gain  the  ammunition  which 
they  sought. 

1829.  January  26,  Pump  Street,  running  from  Division  to  Collect  Street,  was  changed 
to  Walker  Street;  this  was  before  Canal  Street,  in  name,  was  continued  to  East  Broadway. 
Reason,  from  Macdougal  Street  to  where  it  crossed  Asylum,  was  changed  to  Barrow  Street. 
In  April  Beaver  Lane  was  changed  to  Morris  Street,  and  Herring,  from  Carmine  to  Bank 
Street,  became  Bleecker  Street.  In  May  Barrow  was  changed  to  Grove  Street.  Clinton  Mar- 
ket, on  Washington,  Spring,  Canal  and  West  Streets,  was  opened  in  April.  Arden,  from 
Bleecker  to  Bedford,  was  changed  to  Morton ;  David,  from  Broadway  to  Herring,  changed  to 
Bleecker  Street. 

"THE  MAIDENS'  PATH" 

Another  curious  street — Maiden  Lane — enjoys  a  unique  reputation  as  the  one 
street  in  our  city  which  has  a  regularly  organized  Historical  Society  to  look  after 
its  welfare  and  to  keep  its  memory  green.  They  recently  erected  a  tablet  on  the 
Silversmiths'  Building,  the  gift  of  Mr.  Edward  Holbrook,  President  of  the  Gor- 
ham  Company,  which  sets  forth  the  origin  of  the  street  and  particularly  of  its 
adoption  by  the  jewelry  trade  as  a  central  location. 

Maiden  Lane,  which  has  jumped  into  prominence  through  the  tablet  on  the  Silversmiths' 
Building,  near  Broadway,  has  as  curious  and  important  a  history  as  any  street  in  the  city. 
For  so  crooked  and  so  short  a  thoroughfare  it  has  played  many  parts  in  the  career  of  the 
growing  metropolis. 

It  originally  obtained  its  name  from  the  fact  that  about  1660,  and  for  many  years 
thereafter,  the  daughters  of  the  old  Knickerbockers  came  in  troops,  on  washing  days,  to 
spread  their  clothes  upon  the  smooth  grassy  slopes  which  rose  from  the  valley,  westward, 
as  far  as  King  (Pine)  Street,  and  eastward  to  Golden  Hill  (between  John  and  Fulton 
Streets).  When  they  had  covered  these  fields  with  newly  cleansed  apparel,  they  would  run, 
romp,  or  loiter  along  homeward,  on  the  margin  of  the  tiny  streamlet,  while  their  merry 
voices  started  the  woodland  echoes  in  the  forests  about  the  Park  and  Beekman  Street. 
Passing  up  to  the  Broadway,  they  found  a  good  path  in  the  Indian  trail  to  the  Battery, 
and  finally  entered  the  city  by  the  gate  at  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Wall  Street.  Their 
constant  goings  to  and  fro  through  the  valley  soon  made  a  beaten  track  along  the  rivu- 
let, which  by  universal  consent  was  denominated  'T  Maagde  Paatje  (the  Maidens'  Path), 
and  by  the  English,  Maiden  Lane. 

No  other  street  has  been  so  honored  and  no  other  street  has  given  birth  to  a  historical 
society  devoted  solely  to  its  interests.    The  Maiden  Lane  Historical  Society,  of  which  Edward 

[  32  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913     H    C  BROWN 

Hirw  of  S>t.  Paula  (ttliurrh  auu  tljr  Snmottmy  Viagra 


AN  EXCEEDINGLY  RARE  VIEW  OF  AN  IMPORTANT  DRAWING  FROM 
LIFE.  BY  H .  REINAGLE.  LITHOGRAPHED  BY  PENDLETON.  9  WALL 
STREET.  THREE  OTHER  PERF  ECT  I  M  PR  ESSIO  N  S  ONLY  ARE  KNOWN. 
IT  SHOWS  THE  SITE  OCCUPIED  BY  THE  ASTOR  HOUSE  AND  THE 
OFFICE  (SMALL  BUILDING  )  IN  WHICH  WILLIAM  H.  HARRISON 
(TIPPECANOE  )  STUDIED  LAW.  ITS  GREAT  VALUE.  HOWEVER, 
CONSISTS  IN  THE  FIDELITY  WITH  WHICH  THE  STREET  TRAFFIC  AND 
FOOT  PASSENGERS  ARE  DRAWN  AND  FOR  THE  VIEW  OF  A  CORNER 
THAT  HAS  ALWAYS  FORMED  AN  IMPORTANT  INTERSECTION  OF 
THREE   BUSY  STREETS. 

FROM  THE   COLLECTION    OF   MR    ROBERT  GO  EL  ET- 


The  Maidens'  Path 


Holbrook  of  the  Gorham  Company  is  president,  has  contributed  a  chapter  of  genuine  value 
to  the  perpetuation  of  fast-fading  historical  associations. 

The  tablet  recites  the  fact  that  the  street  was  originally  called  'T  Maagde  Paatje,  "The 
Maidens'  Walk."  Later  it  was  called  Green  Lane,  but  just  why  no  chronicler  has  stated. 
The  big  hardware  house  of  Wolf,  Bishop  &  Co.  was  there,  and  Gunther's  fur  store  was  on 
the  lane  for  years.  When  the  hardware  and  dry-goods  stores  left  for  newer  quarters,  the 
silversmiths  and  jewelers  came  in  around  1840,  and  they  have  made  Maiden  Lane  famous 
ever  since. 

Early  in  the  century  there  was  an  Arcade  in  Maiden  Lane,  extending  through  to  John 
Street  and  occupying  the  space  of  the  three  buildings  now  known  as  Nos.  9,  11  and  13.  It 
comprised  a  passageway  extending  from  street  to  street,  lined  on  either  side  by  small  stores. 
Above  these  stores  an  iron  railing  was  visible  which  lined  the  edge  of  a  passageway,  passing 
in  front  of  another  row  of  stores  upon  the  second  story.  A  flight  of  stairs  at  either  end 
offered  access  to  the  floor  above.    Overhead  a  glass  roof  furnished  both  protection  and  light. 

The  Arcade  supplied  a  special  attraction  to  the  small  boy,  who  took  delight  in  rushing 
through  to  John  Street  and  back  again.  There  he  bought  his  stick  of  candy,  and  there  his 
proud  mamma  purchased  his  new  cap  or  pair  of  shoes.  In  fact,  the  Arcade  contained  every- 
thing from  needles  and  pins  to  petticoats,  and  was  regarded  as  the  general  shopping  dis- 
trict for  the  private  families  that  lived  in  John,  Nassau  and  Reade  Streets,  furnishing  also  a 
favorite  promenade  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  and  a  thoroughfare  on  Sunday  afternoon  on 
the  way  down  to  Battery  Park,  where  the  best  people  of  the  city  were  to  be  seen. 

The  old  Arcade  yielded  in  the  course  of  time  to  the  pressure  of  other  interests.  It 
is  possible  that  the  departure  of  private  families  to  homes  further  uptown  caused  it  to  suf- 
fer a  decline  in  trade;  at  any  rate,  some  time  between  1830  and  1835  it  passed  out  of  ex- 
istence. 

Formerly  Maiden  Lane  was  much  lower  at  the  junction  of  Pearl  Street  and  up  to  Gold 
(Rutgers'  Hill)  than  at  present;  the  tide  water  coming  sometimes  nearly  as  far  up  as  the 
angular  corner  at  the  intersection  of  Crown  (Liberty)  Street.  Maiden  Lane  was  then  very 
narrow,  with  an  open  gutter  in  the  middle,  down  which  in  rainy  weather  ran  a  torrent  of 
water  from  the  hills  on  either  side  sufficient  to  prevent  foot  passengers  from  crossing  below 
William  Street. 

In  early  times,  before  the  street  was  built  up,  there  were  many  pretty  cottages  on  the 
western  side,  some  of  them  inhabited  by  the  very  pink  of  Knickerbocker  aristocracy.  Here 
flourished  in  all  the  pride  of  fashion,  high-heeled  shoes,  powdered  wigs,  enormous  hoops,  and  a 
thousand  other  forgotten  vagaries  of  dress.  Women  then,  both  old  and  young,  wore  caps 
continually ;  a  bare  head  was  never  seen ;  stiff  stays,  about  as  unyielding  as  the  staves  of  a 
wine  cask,  and  hoops  projecting  two  feet  from  the  body  on  either  side  were  among  the  peculiar 
fashions  of  the  time.  Their  dresses  were  all  of  silk  or  wool;  cotton  was  entirely  unknown; 
powdered  hair,  long  queues  and  frizzled  sidelocks  were  all  the  rage.  The  "Skimmer  hat"  was 
one  of  the  peculiar  fashions  of  the  day.  This  was  in  a  shape  something  like  a  Leghorn  flat, 
and  made  of  a  fabric  which  shone  like  silver. 

Where  the  street  slopes  down  to  the  river,  at  its  junction  with  Liberty  Street,  was  the 
famous  Fly  Market,  a  corruption  of  the  Dutch  word  "Vly,"  meaning  a  valley  or  low  land. 
The  Fly  Market  was  an  institution  of  the  locality  surviving  long  after  the  Revolution,  and 
some  of  the  Fly  Market  butchers  were  among  the  most  substantial  citizens.  Two  of  them 
have  given  their  names  to  city  streets,  James  Mott,  and  his  apprentice,  James  Pell.  The 
latter  was  a  shining  light  in  old  St.  George's  Chapel  in  Beekman  Street. 


[35] 


EVACUATION  OF  NEW  YORK  BY  THE  BRITISH 


The  following  account  of  the  evacuation  of  the  city  of  New  York,  on  the 
25th  of  November,  1783,  is  taken  from  Rivington's  Gazette  and  Universal  Ad- 
vertiser of  the  day  after: 

Yesterday,  in  the  morning,  the  American  troops  marched  from  Harlem  to  the  Bowery  lane.  They  re- 
mained there  until  about  one  o'clock,  when  the  British  troops  left  the  Posts  in  the  Bowery,  and  the  American 
troops  marched  into  and  took  possession  of  the  city  in  the  following  order,  vif.: 

1.  A  Corps  of  Dragoons. 

2.  Advance  Guard  of  Light  Infantry. 

3.  A  Corps  of  Artillery. 

4.  Battalion  of  Light  Infantry. 

5.  Battalion  of  Massachusetts  Troops. 

6.  Rear  Guard. 

After  the  troops  had  taken  possession  of  the  city,  the  General  and  Governor  made  their  public  entry 
in  the  following  manner: 

1.  Their  Excellencies,  the  General  and  Governor,  with  their  Secretaries,  on  horseback. 

2.  The  Lieutenant  Governor  and  the  Members  of  the  Council,  for  the  temporary  government  of  the 

Southern  District,  four-a-breast. 

3.  Major  General  Knox,  and  the  Officers  of  the  Army,  eight-a-breast. 

4.  Citizens  on  horseback,  eight-a-breast. 

5.  The  Speaker  of  the  Assembly,  and  citizens  on  foot,  eight-a-breast. 

Their  Excellencies,  the  Governor  and  Commander-in-Chief,  were  escorted  by  a  body  of  Westchester  Light 
Horse,  under  the  command  of  Captain  Delavan. 

The  procession  proceeded  down  Queen  Street  (now  Pearl),  and  through  the  Broadway  to  Cope's  Tavern, 
at  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Thames  Street. 

The  Governor  gave  a  public  dinner  at  Fraunces'  tavern,  at  which  the  Commander-in-Chief  and  other 
general  officers  were  present. 

After  dinner  the  following  toasts  were  drunk  by  the  company: 

1.  The  United  States  of  America. 

2.  His  Most  Christian  Majesty. 

3.  The  United  Netherlands. 

4.  The  King  of  Sweden. 

5.  The  American  Army. 

6.  The  Fleet  and  Armies  of  France  which  have  served  in  America. 

7.  The  Memory  of  Those  Heroes  who  have  fallen  for  our  Freedom. 

8.  May  our  Country  be  Grateful  to  Her  Military  Children. 

9.  May  Justice  Support  what  Courage  Has  Gained. 

10.  The  Vindication  of  the  Rights  of  Mankind  in  every  Quarter  of  the  Globe. 

11.  May  America  be  an  Asylum  for  the  persecuted  of  the  Earth. 

12.  May  a  Close  Union  of  the  States  Guard  the  Temple  they  have  erected  to  Liberty. 

13.  May  the  remembrance  of  this  DAY  be  a  lesson  to  Princes! 

The  arrangement  of  the  whole  conduct  of  this  march  with  the  tranquility  which  succeeded  it  through  the 
day  and  night,  was  admirable,  and  the  grateful  citizens  will  ever  feel  the  more  affectionate  impressions  from  that 
elegant  and  efficient  disposition  which  prevailed  through  the  whole  event. 


[36] 


COPYRIGHT    1913    H    C  BfiOWN 

Sroabuiaij,  rorttrr  (Canal  S>trrrt,  IB 35 


A  COPY  OF  THE  FAMOUS  HORNER  AUUATINT.  SHOWING  THE  CORNER 
OF  BROADWAY  AND  CANAL  STREET  IN  1835. 

ASIDE  FROM  THE  GENERAL  INTEREST  AFFORDED  BY  THE  STYLE  OF 
BUILDINGS  AND  THE  LONG  VIEW  OF  BROADWAY.  IT  IS  PARTICU- 
LARLY VALUABLE  FOR  ITS  PICTORIAL  STORY  OF  THE  TIMES. 
PRACTICALLY  EVERY  TYPE  OF  HORSE-DRAWN  VEHICLE  IN  USE  AT 
THE  TIME  IS  SHOWN.  BUT  THE  STREET  CHARACTERS  ARE  EVEN  MORE 
INTERESTING.  AT  THE  LEFT  IS  A  PILE  OF  WOOD.  COAL  WAS  VERY 
LITTLE  USED  IN  THOSE  DAYS.  AND  WOOD  WAS  BOUGHT  FROM 
WAGONS  IN  LOGS  DUMPED  ON  THE  SIDEWALK  AND  AFTERWARD 
SAWED  INTO  SHORT  LENGTHS  AT  THE  LOWER  EXTREME  RIGHT  IS 
SHOWN  A  PILE  OF  LOGS  AND  THE  COLORED  MAN  WITH  HIS  BUCK- 
SAW AND  HORSES.  THE  TRAVELLING  COBBLER  WITH  A  STRING  OF 
SHOES  ON  A  LONG  POLE  IS  SHOWN  ON  THE  CORNER  A  BOY  IS 
CRYING  "TEA  RUSK-RUK.  RUK.-TEA  'RUK  ! "  AND  ON  THE  LEFT- 
HAND  SIDE  IS  A  PEDDLER  SELLING  ICE  OUT  OF  A  WAGON  A  CURL 
AND  WIG  STORE  IS  ON  THE  LOWER  LEFT-HAND  CORNER  AND  NUMER- 
OUS DOGS  ARE  SEEN.  A  FOUR-HORSE  STAGE  IS  IN  THE  CENTRE. 
WHILE  DOTTING  BOTH  SIDES  OF  THE  STREET  ARE  NUMEROUS 
STANDS  SELLING  PIES.  FRUIT.  ETC  .  ETC.  BUT  FEW  COPIES  OF 
THIS   INTERESTING   PICTURE  ARE  KNOWN. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION   OF    MR    ROBERT  GOELET. 


ST.  GEORGE'S  CHAPEL  IN  BEEKMAN  STREET 


(Interesting  interview  with  the  late  Senior  Warden,  Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan) 

It  was  my  very  great  privilege  a  few  months  ago,  to  procure  for  the  late  Mr. 
J.  Pierpont  Morgan  a  copy  of  the  photograph  of  St.  George's  Chapel  shown  on 
another  page,  which  was  taken  while  the  chapel  was  still  standing  in  Beekman 
Street.  Considerable  interest  attaches  to  this  picture  as  it  is,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
the  only  copy  in  existence.  In  its  original  state  it  is  merely  a  very  small  tintype 
of  the  kind  commonly  made  in  those  days  and  appears  to  be  the  work  of  some  itin- 
erant operator  of  that  period. 

At  that  time  it  used  to  be  an  ordinary  sight  to  see  a  travelling  photographer  in 
front  of  almost  any  store,  the  entrance  of  which  would  be  crowded  by  the  em- 
ployees of  the  firm,  picturesquely  arranged  for  a  "group"  photograph.  A  day  or 
two  later,  a  specimen  print  would  be  shown  and  an  order  from  each  of  the  persons 
in  the  group  would  generally  follow.  It  is  some  such  occurrence  as  this  which  has 
preserved  to  us  this  old  portrait  of  St.  George's.  It  is  probable  that  the  em- 
ployees of  Sutphen  &  Meyer  and  of  the  Colwell  Lead  Co.  were  included  in  the 
original  negative,  but  if  so  they  have  long  ago  faded  out. 

When  Mr.  Morgan  had  gazed  long  and  intently  upon  the  old  chapel  I  inter- 
rupted him  to  show  him  the  picture  of  the  Everett  House  also  shown  on  another 
page.  "That,"  I  remarked,  forgetting  for  the  moment  that  I  was  talking  to  a 
vestryman  of  over  forty-seven  years'  standing,  "that  is  the  first  site  St.  George's 
selected  when  they  decided  to  move  uptown." 

"But  there  were  two  more  houses,"  interrupted  Mr.  Morgan,  "than  your  pic- 
ture shows — two  more — we  went  right  up  to  No.  33.  The  deal  was  practically 
closed  for  twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  and  we  were  on  the  way  downtown  when 
we  met  Mrs.  Stuyvesant.  We  told  her  what  we  had  decided  to  do,  when  she 
said:  'What  do  you  want  to  squander  all  that  money  for? — come  over  where  I  live 
and  I'll  give  you  all  the  land  you  need.'  " 

And  that's  why  St.  George's  Chapel  did  not  buy  the  corner  of  Fourth  Ave- 
nue, from  Seventeenth  to  Eighteenth  Street,  opposite  Union  Square,  but  went  to 
Stuyvesant  Square  instead.  The  chapel  was  established  in  Beekman  Street  in 
1752  and  the  following  account,  written  at  the  time  of  its  removal  uptown  in 
1868,  is  of  unusual  interest. 

"On  the  15th  of  April,  1748,  a  number  of  gentlemen  met  in  the  vestry  of  King's  Chapel, 
or  Trinity  Church,  then  situated  where  the  present  church  stands  in  the  Broadway,  but,  at 
the  time  referred  to,  overhanging  the  banks  of  the  Hudson.  These  gentlemen  being  of  the 
opinion,  after  a  deliberate  consultation,  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  a  chapel  of  ease  con- 
nected with  Trinity,  it  was  then  and  there  ordained  that  the  Church-wardens,  Colonel  Moore, 
Mr.  Watts,  Mr.  Livingston,  Mr.  Chambers,  Mr.  Horsmanden,  Mr.  Reade,  and  Mr.  Lodge,  be 


[39] 


Founding  of  St.  George's 


appointed  a  committee  to  select  a  place  for  the  erection  'of  ye'  Chapel  of  St.  George's. 
Another  meeting  was  held  on  the  4th  of  July,  1748.  Colonel  Robinson,  one  of  the  commit- 
tee, reported  that  he  had  agreed  with  a  Mr.  Clarkson  for  a  number  of  lots,  for  which  that 
person  had  asked  the  sum  of  £500,  to  be  paid  in  a  year;  and  several  persons  in  Montgomerie 
Ward  had  stated  to  him  that  the  lots  of  Colonel  Beekman,  fronting  Beekman  and  Van  Cliff 
Streets,  would  be  more  commodious  for  building  the  said  chapel,  and  proposed  that  if  the 
vestry  would  agree  to  the  building  of  the  chapel  on  Colonel  Beekman's  property,  the  inhab- 
itants of  Montgomerie  Ward  would  raise  money  among  themselves  to  purchase  the  ground, 
and  that  if  Mr.  Clarkson  insisted  on  the  performance  of  the  agreement  with  him  for  his  lots, 
they  would  take  a  conveyance  for  them,  and  pay  the  purchase  money;  which  was  agreed  to 
after  many  hot  words ;  for  these  respectable  vestrymen,  in  a  manner  like  all  vestrymen  from 
time  immemorial,  had  tempers  of  their  own,  and  no  doubt  they  were  exercised  at  the  fact 
that  the  doughty  Robinson  had  taken  upon  himself  to  make  an  agreement  to  purchase  lots 
for  £500,  a  very  large  sum  in  those  days,  when  the  gold-board  had  not  been  established, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  inhabitants  of  Montgomerie  Ward,  which  was  afterward  called 
the  'Swamp'  in  the  memory  of  man,  were,  without  whip  or  spur,  eager,  for  the  honor  and 
glory  of  the  future,  to  furnish  the  lots  and  build  upon  them  a  church.  Well,  the  vestry- 
men drank  more  arrack-punch,  sweetened  with  muscovado  sugar,  and  punished  'oelykoeks,' 
greasy  with  oil  and  other  substances,  and  then  returned  to  the  bosoms  of  their  respec- 
tive families.  Donations  poured  in  to  the  committee,  and  the  first  subscription,  of  £100, 
was  made  by  Sir  Peter  Warren,  who  desired,  if  not  inconsistent  with  the  rules  of  the  church, 
that  they  would  reserve  a  pew  for  himself  and  family  in  perpetuity.  The  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury contributed  ten  pounds.  The  installation  services  were  held  on  the  1st  day  of  July, 
A.D.  1752;  but  there  being  no  bishop  in  the  country  at  the  time,  it  was  consecrated  agree- 
ably to  the  ancient  usages  of  the  church.  The  Rev.  Henry  Barclay,  D.D.,  at  this  time  was  the 
rector,  and  Rev.  Samuel  Auchmuty,  D.D.,  assistant  minister  of  Trinity  Church.  Being 
finished  in  the  finest  style  of  architecture  of  the  period,  and  having  a  handsome  and  lofty 
steeple,  this  edifice  was  justly  deemed  a  great  ornament  to  the  city.  It  first  stood  alone, 
there  being  but  few  other  houses  in  its  vicinity.  Shortly  subsequent,  however,  the  streets  were 
graded  and  built  upon,  and  now  the  immense  warehouses  of  enterprising  merchants  aud  hand- 
some private  residences  surround  it  on  every  side.  When  first  constructed,  the  interior  ar- 
rangement of  St.  George's  differed  considerably  from  1868,  the  chancel  at  that  time  being 
contained  in  the  circular  recess  at  the  rear  of  the  church,  and  the  altar  standing  back 
against  the  rear  wall  in  full  view  of  the  middle  aisle.  There  was  also  some  difference  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  desk,  pulpit,  and  clerk's  desk.  An  interesting  relation  is  told  con- 
cerning the  material  of  which  this  part  of  the  church  furniture  was  made,  and  it  may  be  thus 
condensed:  In  one  of  the  voyages  made  by  a  sea-captain,  whose  vessel  was  unfortunately 
wrecked,  he  sustained,  among  other  injuries,  the  loss  of  the  vessel's  masts.  This  disaster 
occurring  on  a  coast  where  no  other  wood  than  mahogany  could  be  procured,  the  captain 
was  obliged  to  remedy  the  loss  by  replacing  the  old  masts  with  masts  made  of  mahogany. 
This  ship,  thus  repaired,  returned  to  this  port  about  the  time  St.  George's  was  building, 
when  more  suitable  masts  were  substituted,  and  those  made  of  mahogany  were  donated  to  the 
church.  The  pulpit,  desk,  and  chancel-rails  were  removed  some  years  afterward,  and  it  may 
be  interesting  to  state  that  they  can  now  be  seen  answering  a  like  capacity  in  Christ 
Church,  in  the  little  town  of  Manhasset,  on  Long  Island. 

"There  is  an  incident  connected  with  the  beautiful  font  of  this  church  which  will  also 
bear  repetition.    Originally  intended  for  a  Catholic  church  in  South  America,  it  was  shipped 


[40] 


C  BROWN 

Haaljimjtim  Square  as  a  Jflara&p  (6rmtni» 


THIS  CURIOUS  OLD  LITHOGRAPH  RECALLS  THE  TIME  WHEN  WASH- 
INGTON SQUARE  WAS  ONE  OF  THE  SHOW  PLACES  OF  THE  TOWN. 
AND  WHERE  THE  LOCAL  MILITIA  PARADED  FOR  INSPECTION. 
THIS  VIEW  IS  UNIQUE  IN  THAT  IT  IS  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  PICTURE 
IN  THE  POSSESSION  OF  THE  8th  CO..  AND  THE  PRINCIPAL  HEADS 
ARE  DAGUERREOTYPES  TAKEN  BY  MEADE  BROS  .  WELL  KNOWN 
PHOTOGRAPHERS  IN  THOSE  DAYS.  AT  233  BROADWAY. 
IT  IS  A  COLORED  PICTURE  AND  WAS  CONSIDERED  SOMETHING  RE- 
MARKABLE IN  ITS  DAY.  AS  BOTH  PHOTOGRAPHY  AND  LITHOGRAPHY 
WERE  THEN  INTHEIR  INFANCY.  IT  WAS  PU  B  L I SH  E  D  BY  OTTO  BOTT- 
CH1NGER  AT  289  BROADWAY.  AND.  BESIDES  BEING  A  GOOD  PICTURE 
OF  THE  REGIMENT.  SHOWS  ALSO  THE  OLD  UNIVERSITY  BUILDING 
AND  THE  OLD  HOUSES  WHICH  SU  RRO  U  N  DE  D  T  H  E  SQUARE  IN  1852. 
WHEN  THE  POPULARITY  OF  THE  SQUARE  WAS  AT  ITS  HEIGHT. 

FROM  THE   COLLECTION   OF  MRS.  ROBERT  W.  DE  FOREST. 


The  Death  or  Mr.  Morgan 


on  a  French  vessel  to  be  carried  to  its  destination;  but  whilst  on  the  voyage  it  was  cap- 
tured by  the  English  during  the  old  French  war  and  brought  to  this  city.  This  font  is 
made  of  white  marble,  and  is  a  masterly  piece  of  workmanship.  In  1814,  when  St.  George's 
was  burned,  this  font  was  supposed  to  have  been  destroyed,  but  it  was  found  about  thirty 
years  ago  in  a  remote  part  of  the  church,  where  it  had  been  removed  during  the  conflagra- 
tion. It  was  somewhat  damaged,  but  not  enough,  however,  to  prevent  its  further  use; 
and  after  being  cleaned  and  repaired  it  was  replaced  in  front  of  the  chancel,  where  it  now 
stands,  an  interesting  feature  of  the  time-honored  building. 

"In  the  year  1811,  arrangements  were  made  for  a  separation  between  the  congregation 
of  St.  George's  and  the  corporation  of  Trinity  Church,  after  which  the  former  became  duly 
organized  as  a  separate  parish,  known  as  St.  George's  Church. 

"The  following  persons  composed  the  first  vestry:  Church-wardens — Gerrit  Van  Wag- 
enen  and  Henry  Peters.  Vestrymen — Francis  Dominick,  Isaac  Lawrence,  Isaac  Carow,  Rob- 
ert Wardell,  Cornelius  Schermerhorn,  John  Onderdonk,  Edward  W.  Laight,  and  William 
Green.  After  St.  George's  became  a  separate  parish,  its  first  minister  was  the  Rev.  John 
Brady,  who  afterward  became  an  assistant  under  the  Rev.  John  Kewly. 

"One  hundred  years  after  the  consecration  of  St.  George's,  a  grand  centenary  celebration 
was  held  in  the  church,  and  hundreds  of  worshipers  knelt  in  the  shadow  of  the  pulpit  from 
which  George  Washington  had  often  heard  the  sacred  text  read  and  expounded.  Dr.  Tyng 
held  the  rectorship  until  the  new  edifice  in  Sixteenth  Street  was  finished,  when  the  communion 
service  was  removed  to  the  new  church,  and  a  number  of  old  relics  carried  away.  Now  the 
venerable  pile  is  being  gutted  from  organ-loft  to  altar,  and  the  hungry  doors  stand  open  that 
all  may  see  the  nakedness  of  the  edifice.  The  old  gray  flag-stones,  worn  by  the  feet  of 
Schuylers,  Livingstons,  Reades,  Van  Cliffs,  Beekmans,  Van  Rensselaers,  Cortlandts,  Moores, 
and  others,  well  known  and  respected  in  the  infancy  of  the  metropolis,  are  to  be  torn  up  and 
converted  into  lime;  the  pulpit  will  go  to  a  junk  shop,  and  the  rest  of  the  furniture  to  the 
wood-yard." 

Since  the  above  was  written  St.  George's  has  enjoyed  a  career  of  unexampled 
prosperity  in  its  present  location  in  Stuyvesant  Square.  And  upon  the  sad  occa- 
sion of  the  funeral  services  for  Mr.  Morgan  it  sheltered  as  distinguished  an  audi- 
ence as  ever  assembled  in  a  city  to  whose  greatness  John  Pierpont  Morgan 
devoted  so  much  of  his  life  and  monumental  talents. 


[43] 


DELIGHTFUL  MEMORIES  OF  BYGONE  DAYS  BY  MEN 

STILL  LIVING 


In  the  pages  which  follow,  no  particular  attempt  has  been  made  to  arrange 
these  records  and  recollections  consecutively  or  do  much  else  than  present  the 
writer's  own  description  of  things  he  remembers  or  of  which  he  was  a  part.  Most 
of  them  are  personal  conversations  jotted  down  as  opportunity  offered.  Others 
are  specially  dictated  contributions  for  this  work  and  some  are  communications 
which  have  appeared  from  time  to  time  in  our  daily  press,  notably  in  the  New 
York  Sun.  It  seemed  to  the  writer  that  they  are  entitled  to  a  more  permanent 
place  than  in  the  fugitive  pages  of  a  daily  publication. 

The  files  of  the  World,  Herald,  Times,  Evening  Post,  Mail  and  Express, 
Globe,  Telegram,  Tribune,  have  also  contributed.  It  is  of  course  impossible  to 
enumerate  the  long  list  of  papers  in  other  cities  whose  columns  have  at  some  time 
or  other  contained  historical  mention  of  New  York,  and  this  must  be  accepted  as 
a  general  acknowledgment.  In  my  judgment  these  communications  are  of  high 
historical  value,  and  will  grow  in  value  as  time  passes.  They  present  a  personal 
glimpse  of  the  period  of  which  they  treat,  and  a  first-hand  knowledge  which  it  will 
soon  be  impossible  to  obtain. 

By  Charles  F.  Lawrence 
[Mr.  Lawrence  was  one  of  our  old  downtown  merchants  who  gladly  placed  on  record 
his  recollections  of  the  city  as  he  recalled  it  as  a  boy.  His  memory  goes  back  almost  half 
a  century,  and  it  was  a  genuine  pleasure  for  him  to  recount  his  early  knowledge  and  to  con- 
trast it  with  present-day  conditions.  Many  of  our  readers  will  be  carried  back  to  those  older 
days  by  a  perusal  of  his  article,  anil  those  to  whom  it  comes  as  a  surprising  revelation  can 
at  least  be  assured  of  its  absolute  accuracy.] 

I  remember  the  fleet  of  sidewheeled  passenger  boats  run  by  the  Staten  Island 
Ferry  Company.  The  boats  were  named  Middleton,  Castleton,  Northfield,  Southfield,  West- 
field.  Who  remembers  the  old  stage  lines  that  ran  down  Broadway  to  the  different  ferries? 
Some  went  to  South  Ferry,  some  to  Cortlandt  Street  and  others  to  Fulton  Ferry  and  Wall 
Street  Ferry.  The  stages  were  prettily  painted  with  bodies  in  white,  and  lettering  and  run- 
ning gear  in  red.  The  line  running  to  Fulton  Ferry,  the  Fifth  Avenue  line,  had  the  most 
elaborate  stages,  the  body  of  the  bus  being  finished  in  navy  blue,  running  gear  in  white, 
striped  with  red,  and  the  lettering  was  done  in  gold.  The  door  of  the  stage  was  opened  or 
closed  by  a  heavy  leather  strap  controlled  by  the  driver.  When  he  opened  the  door  to  admit 
a  passenger  he  would  release  his  hold  on  the  strap. 

When  the  passenger  had  entered  the  driver  would  haul  the  strap  taut;  then  he  would 
ring  for  your  fare,  which  you  passed  up  to  him  through  a  small  opening  at  the  rear  of  his 
seat.  The  driver  then  deposited  the  money  in  a  little  change  box  beside  his  seat.  Messenger 
boys  used  to  climb  up  and  sit  on  the  box  with  the  driver.  It  was  understood  that  the  fare 
was  then  to  be  divided  between  the  boy  and  the  driver,  as  it  was  not  necessary  to  ring  it  up. 


[44  ] 


MORRIS  CADETS.  HUSSARS.  GERMAN  LAFAYETTE.  MONTGOMERY. 
WASHINGTON  AND  BROOKLYN  HORSE  GUARDS.  NATIONAL  GUARD 
AND  WASHINGTON  GREYS  TROOP.  HORSE  ARTILLERY,  LANCERS. 
LIKE  THE  FIRE  PICTURE  OF  1835.  THE  EXPRESS  COMPANY.  AND 
THE  '  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PARADE.''  THIS  LITHOGRAPH  SHOWS 
THE  ACTUAL  LIKENESSES  IN  THE  FOREG  RO  U  N  D  OF  TH  E  CO  M  M  A  N  D- 
ING  OFFICERS.  THESE  LITHOGRAPHS  WERE  BOUGHT  AS  SOU- 
VENIRS BY  THE  MEMBERS.  BUT  FEW  ARE  NOW  IN  EXISTENCE.  THIS 
WAS  PRINTED  IN  1844  BY  F  J,  FRITSCH  OF  THIS  CITY,  AND  THE 
BACKGROUND  SHOWS  CASTLE  GARDEN.  THE  BATTERY  AND  THE 
BAY.  IT  IS  A  RARE  COLORED  COPY  AND  IS  NOW  PRACTICALLY 
UNOBTAINABLE 

AS  AN  ILLUSTRATION  OF  AN  OLD-TIME  CRACK  REGIMENT.  IT  IS 
OF  GREAT  INTEREST.  ITS  MEMBERS  CAME  FROM  FAMILIES  OF 
THE   HIGHEST  SOCIAL  STANDING   IN   THE  CITY. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR,  PERCY    R.  PYNE.  2ND. 


Sailing  Vessels  on  South  Street 


When  you  wanted  to  alight  you  had  to  pull  on  the  strap.  Then  the  driver  would  release  his  hold 
on  the  strap  and  the  door  would  fly  open.  The  fare  in  those  days  was  10  cents  and  the  lines 
paid  good  dividends.  In  winter  time  in  extreme  cold  weather  they  would  place  a  bedding  of 
straw  on  the  floors  of  the  stages  to  keep  the  passengers'  feet  warm. 

There  was  not  much  advertising  done  in  those  days  and  the  small  panels  over  the  win- 
dows of  each  stage  had  a  crudely  executed  rural  scene  painted  in  oil  colors. 

At  night  the  only  illumination  was  from  a  small  candle  enclosed  in  a  glass  case  or  box 
between  the  front  windows.  In  later  years  they  used  oil  lamps,  which  sometimes  smoked  forth 
a  disagreeable  odor. 

I  remember  seeing  stage  sleighs  on  Broadway.  One  of  the  stage  lines  had  a  terminal 
at  Avenue  B  and  Fourteenth  Street.  City  Hall  Park  was  enclosed  by  a  railing.  On  the 
railing  the  venders  would  string  a  long  fluttering  line  of  penny  ballads.  You  could  pur- 
chase a  dandy  hunk  of  George  Washington  pie  in  those  days  for  a  cent.  Or  you  could  buy  a 
cigar  for  a  penny  from  an  oval-eyed  Chinaman  and  light  it  at  the  smoky  oil  lamp  on  his 
stand. 

Lower  South  Street  seemed  an  almost  impenetrable  forest  of  spars,  masts  and  rigging. 
The  beautiful,  sleek  clipper  ships  used  to  dock  there  and  the  bowsprits  of  the  vessels  used 
to  extend  almost  across  the  width  of  South  Street  and  seemed  to  pierce  the  grimy  windows 
of  the  warehouses.  The  figureheads  on  the  bows  of  the  vessels  were  of  colossal  size  and  were 
beautifully  carved.  Some  of  the  figureheads  represented  dolphins,  mermaids,  kings,  queens, 
admirals,  etc.  The  figureheads  were  beautifully  painted,  some  with  a  coat  of  pure  white  and 
some  all  a  blaze  of  gold.  When  the  glint  of  the  sun  rested  on  these  figures  and  illumined 
their  beautiful  lines  it  was  a  sight  worth  going  miles  to  see.  The  South  Street  wharves  were 
also  busy  places.  Competition  for  freight  was  keen,  too.  Before  sailing  days  the  agents  of 
the  different  lines  of  sailing  vessels  would  issue  and  distribute  among  all  the  business  houses 
beautifully  printed  cards  which  gave  all  information  about  sailing  dates,  freight  rates,  etc. 
Some  of  the  cards  bore  a  picture  of  a  vessel  at  sea  straining  under  full  sail.  The  cards  were 
really  artistic,  the  best  work  of  the  printer  and  lithographer. 

Brooks  Bros.'  clothing  store  was  on  Catharine  Street  and  Barnum  &  Co.'s  clothing  store 
on  Chatham  Square;  the  old  Dutch  Reformed  Church  on  Fulton  and  William  Streets,  and 
the  old  post  office  on  Nassau  Street,  between  Cedar  and  Liberty  Streets.  It  was  a  low,  dingy, 
red  brick  building.    I  remember  a  P.  H.  Jones  as  postmaster  then. 

In  those  days  the  Cunard  Line  steamers  docked  over  at  Jersey  City.  The  office  of  the 
line  was  in  Bowling  Green.  C.  G.  Franklyn  was  agent  for  the  line.  Many  a  time  as  a  boy 
I  visited  the  Bowling  Green  office  to  get  bills  of  lading  signed,  and  went  to  the  Jersey  City 
docks  with  letters  for  the  supplementary  mails.  The  Cunard  Line  in  those  days  had  a  side- 
wheeled  steamer  named  Scotia.  She  carried  the  mail,  and  if  she  made  the  trip  in  ten  or  twelve 
days  the  downtown  merchants  were  jubilant. 

In  those  days  gold  was  at  a  high  premium.  Callender  &  Henderson  were  a  brokerage 
firm  in  Exchange  Place.  Many  a  bill  of  gold  I  purchased  there  for  the  firm  I  was  with. 
Cables  to  Europe  cost  a  dollar  a  word  in  gold. 

Those  were  big  days  in  the  cotton  market.  The  Cotton  Exchange  was  in  a  building  in 
Pearl  Street  near  Wall  Street.  Who  remembers  the  following  big  guns  of  the  cotton  market : 
Inman,  Swann  &  Co.,  Lehman  Bros.,  Easton  &  Co.,  Tabor  Bros.,  Fatman  &  Co.,  Fachire 
Bros.,  Marsh,  Price  &  Co.,  Cranshaw  &  Co.,  Jewell,  Harrison  &  Co.,  E.  J.  Donnell,  James  F. 
Wenman?    The  cotton  press  of  James  Dillon  was  on  Coenties  Slip.    Cotton  in  those  days 


[47] 


The  Old  Academy  of  Music  on  Fourteenth  Street 


came  from  the  South  in  huge  bales.  These  bales  were  sent  to  Dillon's  to  be  compressed. 
The  compressing  saved  freight  room  on  the  ocean  liners.  When  a  bale  of  cotton  came  out 
of  Dillon's  press  it  was  about  half  the  size  it  was  when  it  entered.  Cotton  samplers  in  those 
days  made  money  very  fast.    Cotton  was  king  then. 

In  Old  Fulton  Market,  with  its  booths  and  stalls  fairly  groaning  under  the  weight  of 
good  things  to  eat,  Dorlon  &  Schaeffer  had  an  oyster  saloon  where  you  could  feast  on  the 
most  luscious  oysters,  with  a  toby  of  good  ale  on  the  side.  What  a  business  Dorlon's  had  in 
those  days.  At  certain  hours  of  the  day  and  evening  you  would  have  to  stand  and  wait  your 
turn  for  a  table.    All  the  old  Harper  firm  lunched  there  regularly. 

Big,  hearty  Jim  Farrish  had  a  place  on  John  Street  near  William.  There  you  could  en- 
joy a  juicy  chop  or  steak  or  a  dish  of  kidneys.  Kea ting's  grocery  store  was  corner  Peck 
Slip  and  Water  Street.  You  could  slip  in  there  and  enjoy  crackers  and  cheese,  and  were  you 
well  known  you  could  get  a  nip  of  rare  old  gin.  Kit  Burns's  place  was  on  Water  Street  near 
Dover.  Kit  had  the  name  of  being  a  pugilist.  He  used  the  fighting  ring  sometimes  as  a  rat 
pit.  Avery's  place,  selling  fine  groceries  and  rare  vintages,  was  on  Water  Street  above 
Dover.    Brockway's  Brewery  was  on  East  Eleventh  Street,  near  Second  Avenue. 

The  palace  car  run  by  the  Third  Avenue  road  years  ago  was  quite  a  long  car,  oval  at 
each  end,  and  was  drawn  by  four  horses.  The  car  was  richly  fitted  up.  It  had  silk  curtains 
on  the  windows  and  the  fare  was  10  cents.  When  the  seats  of  the  car  were  all  occupied  no 
more  passengers  were  allowed. 

Freight  cars  of  the  New  York  and  New  Haven  road  came  down  Fourth  Avenue  to  Broome 
Street,  through  Broome  to  Centre  Street  to  the  freight  station  there.  The  cars  were  drawn 
by  four  horses.  The  passenger  depot  of  the  New  York  and  New  Haven  road  was  at 
Twenty-seventh  Street  and  Fourth  Avenue.  The  depot  was  a  very  modest  affair,  just  a 
low  brick  building.  Years  ago  I  went  there  to  take  a  train  for  New  Rochelle.  The 
passenger  cars  then  had  flat  roofs,  like  some  of  the  old-style  freight  cars.  When  train  time 
came  they  would  attach  four  horses  to  each  passenger  car  and  the  cars  would  be  drawn  up  to 
a  point  about  Fiftieth  Street  and  Fourth  Avenue,  where  the  roundhouse  was.  There  they 
would  attach  a  wheezy  locomotive  and  your  journey  would  commence.  At  that  time  the  upper 
section  of  the  city  was  very  sparsely  settled  and  the  tracks  of  the  steam  railroads  were  on 
the  street  level.  At  Fifty-ninth  Street  crossing  a  flagman  was  stationed  to  warn  people  of  the 
approach  of  the  trains.  Many  a  time  as  a  child  I  stood  at  that  crossing  to  see  the  trains  go  by. 

Second  Avenue  of  years  ago  was  a  delightful  place.  They  called  it  "Lovers'  Lane."  On 
each  side  of  the  avenue  from  Second  Street  to  Twenty-third  Street  stood  fine  old  roomy 
houses,  most  of  them  occupied  by  the  best  known  people  of  the  city.  The  Abendroth  and 
Kane  residences  were  especially  fine  houses.  The  avenue  was  tree-embowered  all  the  way 
up  to  Twenty-third  Street,  and  it  was  a  charming  promenade. 

Patti  sang  at  the  Academy  of  Music ;  also  Campanini  and  Nilsson.  Colonel  Mapleson  gave 
seasons  of  Italian  grand  opera  under  his  direction.  All  the  elite  of  the  city  used  to  attend, 
and  during  the  performance  the  carriages  of  the  wealthy  used  to  block  the  streets  and  ave- 
nues near  the  Academy.  The  Academy  was  burned  down,  and  was  afterward  rebuilt. 
At  Lent's  circus,  opposite  the  Academy  of  Music,  the  Melvilles  performed.  Many  a  time  I 
lingered  near  the  stage  door  of  the  circus  to  see  the  members  of  the  troupe  come  out  after 
the  performance.  The  old  Irving  Hall  is  now  the  German  Theatre.  During  the  burning  of 
St.  George's  Church  on  Sixteenth  Street  and  Rutherford  Place,  I  stood  on  Second  Avenue 
peering  through  the  tall  iron  railing  surrounding  Stuyvesant  Park,  and  I  could  see  the  burn- 
ing embers  falling  into  the  vestibule  entrance  of  the  church.    The  fire  did  great  damage  and 


[48] 


lEarly  BanbrrbUt  Says 


AN  EXCELLENT  VIEW  OF  THE  EAST  RIVER  AND  SKY  LINE  OF  NEW 
YORK  FROM  BROOKLYN  HEIGHTS  IN  1848.  THE  STEAMERS  C  VAN- 
DERBILT"  AND  "BAY  SHORE"  IN  THE  FOREGROUND  BELONGED  TO 
THE  VANDERB1LT  LINE  BETWEEN  NEW  YORK  AND  BOSTON  VIA  STON- 
INGTON  THE  VANDERBILTS  AT  THAT  TIME  HAD  NOT  ENTERED  THE 
RAILROAD  FIELD.  BUT  WERE  HEAVILY  INTERESTED  IN  COASTWISE 
NAVIGATION.  THE  FERRI ES  AN  D  SAI  LING  CRAFT  WERE  TYPICAL  OF 
THE  TIME.  NOTE  THE  MAN Y  VESSELS  LYI NG  ALONG  TH  E  DOCKS  AT 
SOUTH  STREET. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF   MR    ROBERT  GOELET. 


The  Old  Academy  of  Hnnc  on  *v,.t»™~„.  o 


Th.  r,«|(„Mi»  ^*  ^  W*re  «**  t«  »iIlon'.  to  be  compressed. 

•f  Dflion'.  prJj  VUeRn  ,;Der8-    When  »  We  of  cotton  came  out 

<*-J.  «•*  mo**  -rv  W     SL!TJ™"i!'  Cn  *  entere<1-    Cotton  samplers  in  those 

v  ottoo  was  king  then. 

f~l  U  «  .    .  ,  '  rfb00*h7nd  StaU8  fairI^  «roanin«  »»*r  the  weight  of 

-      ^r  had  an  oyster  saloon  where  you  could  feast  on  the 

"'  7  °"         ^    What  a  »„,,,  ,.  r,,jH„n%  had  in 

,    "        "    ^  VOU  Would  hHV,         ........  H.Hit 

g.     ^  .  .     m^W  "»rper  firm  lunche<l  there  regularly 

to  . *L  2  «^o^LtCf\°n,  J°hn  Dear  W,',,iam  T»  could  en- 

•4  ^JTLIt.    You       M   r    •     tneyS'    KCating'8  grOCt?^  9t°re  was  corner  PeTk 
^T^^  a  "  C<7,d  SllP,"  tHere  aDd  ™j°y  -ackers  and  cheese,  and  were  you 
<*  frt  a  mp  of  rare  old  g,n.    Kit  Burns's  place  was  on  Water  Stree  near 
h«  name  „f  being  a  pugilist.    He  uged  ^  J ^ n  a 

ptacr,  filing  fine  groceries  and  rare  vintages   was  on  wT!  T  V  V 

iw^;rr\Xfhewrnd  r Eieventh  ^-^T:^ 

-*"—-d  the  fafe  Z  ZZs^Z  2  *    ?  ^  *  ^ 

»<  ro  allowed.  '  the  c"  w«       «*»pi«<i  no 

;;l!^-v„i„Js„|.;,.,..„l(„.e,  

"™™  —  -Street  ,!;„ion,,„..  .  " 

^—rt-K  FWUk  Strort  ,„d  Fourth  Av,„u,.  »hcre  the  roundhouse  xT"  T 

™         !pareel,  sett),  t    ..  .    .   Z£Z  •      .  S^T*"**- 

l,pnue  of  ^ars  ago  was  a  delightful  olac    Tho       u  7      r  g 
mA         *>f  *^  *        „  "ciiK'liri"  pJace.    lhev  ralleti  .:    Lovers'  I  a n» "  n„ 

•^J*  of  the  avenue  from  Second  Street  to  Twenty-third  street    t«^T  m 

--t  of  them  occupied  by  the  best  known  people  of  th'  7u    Z  °1 

"T,  T*^J7  eSPecialIy  fine  houses.    The  avenue  wa«  i^JZ^?^ 
»P  -  third  Street,  and  it  was  a  charming  promenade.  WEJ 

< •  s*ng  at  the  Academy  of  Music ;  also  Campanini  and  cloile,  v,  „, 

?  ttahan  grand  opera  under  his  direction     All  1 1  Maple8°n  «ave 

f,  nri^%S*rr.a£S«of  the  wealth v  ^y  used  to  attend, 

aycS  llidiartimH  yhuHF  n  streets  and  ave- 

me  AcaHemv  was   hunwJ    •  ^_  j 


airerward  rebuilt, 
d.  Many  ft  time  I 
ipe  come  out  after 
ng  the  burning  of 
on  Second  Avenue 


T33S1T?  htuos  <i  1  couJd  see  the  burn- 

die!  great  damage  and 

[48] 


Sheep  and  Cattle  Driven  through  the  Streets 


the  steeples  of  the  church  had  to  be  taken  down,  as  they  were  considered  unsafe.  The  Rev. 
Dr.  Tyng  was  minister  of  St.  George's  at  that  time.   He  was  a  fine  gentleman,  beloved  by  all. 

Steinway  Hall  was  on  Fourteenth  Street.  Delightful  concerts  were  enjoyed  there. 
Theodore  Thomas's  Concert  Garden  was  located  at  Fifty-eighth  Street  and  Seventh  Avenue. 

Following  is  the  old  way  of  giving  alarms  of  fire  in  this  city:  Wooden  towers  were 
erected  at  various  points  of  the  city.  These  towers  had  men  on  duty  who  used  to  ring  out 
the  alarm  on  the  big  bells.  At  times  during  the  night  one  could  hear  the  deep-toned  bells 
give  the  alarm.  Those  were  the  days  of  the  old  volunteer  fire  department.  Many  a  time 
I  have  seen  the  boys  hoofing  along  pulling  the  heavy  machine.  If  they  met  a  rival  company 
they  would  forget  all  about  the  fire,  drop  the  line  and  fight.  When  the  fight  was  over  they 
would  proceed  to  the  scene  of  the  fire. 

There  was  a  time  when  droves  of  cattle  and  sheep  were  driven  through  the  streets  of 
the  city  to  the  slaughter  houses.  Sometimes  a  single  head  would  break  away  from  the  herd 
and,  mounting  the  sidewalk,  it  would  rush  along,  scaring  the  pedestrians.  Cattle  were  slaugh- 
tered at  a  place  which  is  the  present  site  of  the  Fifth  Street  police  station. 

The  Mercantile  Library  was  on  Astor  Place  and  the  Sixpenny  Savings  Bank  in  same 
building,  and  the  hay  market  on  lower  Fourth  Avenue,  now  called  Cooper  Square  South. 
Many  can  recall  the  venerable  and  much  respected  Peter  Cooper,  and  Abram  S.  Hewitt,  his 
son-in-law.  One  night  at  Cooper  Hall  I  heard  Abram  S.  Hewitt  proclaim  that  New  York 
would  one  day  be  the  imperial  city  of  the  world.    He  spoke  the  truth. 

Theiss's  resort  was  on  East  Fourteenth  Street.  It  is  now  Liichow's.  The  Seventh  Reg- 
iment occupied  the  armory  at  Seventh  Street  and  Third  Avenue.  The  old  armory  building  on 
West  Fourteenth  Street  was  occupied  by  the  Twenty-second  Regiment. 

An  old  straw  man  used  to  go  about  the  streets  of  the  city  with  a  dilapidated  two- 
wheel  cart.  The  man  owned  an  old  horse  which  in  the  hot  days  of  summer  would  have 
his  feeble  limbs  draped  in  trousers  of  light  material.  The  animal's  body  would  be  enveloped 
in  yards  of  mosquito  netting  to  keep  the  flies  off.  The  old  straw  man  was  one  of  the  char- 
acters of  the  time.  The  boys  used  to  delight  in  teasing  him.  Sometimes  they  were  cruel 
enough  to  set  fire  to  the  poor  man's  load  of  straw;  hundreds  will  recall  him. 

I  remember  the  Crystal  Palace,  Barnum's  Museum  and  a  theatre  in  Chambers  Street, 
Edwin  Booth  and  his  theatre  at  Twenty-third  Street  and  Sixth  Avenue,  now  McCreery's 
store,  and  the  burial  ground  on  Houston  Street  near  Bowery.  Dan  Bryant  and  his  min- 
strel troupe  appeared  on  Fourteenth  Street.  I  saw  Dan  in  his  "Shoo  Fly"  song  and  dance. 
It  was  a  great  success.  I  remember  the  building  of  the  Manhattan  Club  at  Fifteenth  Street 
and  Fifth  Avenue.    Samuel  J.  Tilden  had  his  beautiful  home  on  Gramercy  Park  South. 

I  remember  the  old  cemetery  on  Second  Street  near  Second  Avenue,  adjoining  the  school 
of  the  Christian  Brothers.  In  my  boyhood  days  I  went  to  the  Brothers'  School,  and  the  beau- 
tiful peacocks  from  the  cemetery  would  sometimes  fly  up  on  the  cemetery  wall  and  look  in  at 
us  boys  assembled  in  class.  The  good  brothers  gave  us  strict  orders  never  to  molest  the  beau- 
tiful birds.  Some  very  bright  boys  finished  their  course  at  De  La  Salle  Institute.  Perhaps 
some  of  my  readers  recollect  Brother  Stephen,  Brother  Isaac  John,  Brother  Leo,  and  Brother 
Luke,  the  music  teacher.  How  the  boys  used  to  plague  Brother  Luke!  At  noon  recess  we 
boys  used  to  chase  around  to  Droste's  bakery  and  lunch  on  tarts  and  cake.  Droste's  place  was 
on  Second  Avenue  near  Second  Street.  A  German  grocery  store  on  the  corner  of  Second  Ave- 
nue and  Second  Street  used  to  supply  us  with  crackers  and  cheese  and  extra  large  green 
pickles.  Then  we  would  tear  back  to  school  again  for  another  bit  at  problems  in  algebra  and 
rend  our  brains  with  theorems  of  geometry.    Happy  days  they  were  then. 


[51] 


The  Bridge  at  Fulton  Street 


The  Fisher  &  Bird  marble  works  were  in  Houston  Street.  Even  now  I  can  see  the  im- 
mense saws  at  work  cutting  the  blocks  of  marble.    That  was  an  interesting  place. 

Augustin  Daly  had  his  theatre  on  Twenty-fourth  Street,  near  Broadway.  Wood's  Museum 
was  on  upper  Broadway.    It  is  now  Daly's  Theatre. 

The  Great  Eastern,  then  the  largest  ship  afloat,  lay  at  anchor  in  the  North  River.  The 
monitor  Dunderberg  lay  at  Roach's  dock,  foot  of  East  Ninth  Street. 

I  recollect  the  visit  to  America  of  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis.  I  saw  him  riding  through 
the  city  in  an  open  carriage  and  bowing  to  the  crowds  assembled  to  see  him.  He  was  a  tall, 
dignified  looking  man  of  the  blond  type. 

The  burial  ground  on  East  Eleventh  and  Twelfth  Streets  was  near  Second  Avenue.  I  think 
St.  Mark's  Church  Corporation  owned  the  property. 

Another  cemetery  was  on  Eleventh  and  Twelfth  Streets  near  First  Avenue.  Another 
was  on  Second  Avenue  between  Second  and  Third  Streets.  The  lads  of  the  city  used  the 
street  gutters  for  skating  ponds.  They  skated  on  one  foot.  The  skates  were  crude  affairs, 
blocks  of  wood  shaped  to  the  form  of  the  shoe  and  a  steel  blade  for  a  runner.  The  skates 
at  the  centre  of  the  heel  had  an  iron  screw.  To  adjust  the  skates  properly  to  the  shoes  it 
was  necessary  to  bore  a  hole  in  the  heel  of  your  shoe.  Into  this  hole  made  by  an  auger 
the  screw  of  the  skate  was  inserted  until  it  held  fast.  Then  leather  straps  on  the  front  of 
the  skates  were  fastened  securely  to  and  around  the  foot. 

The  boys  also  built  fires  in  the  streets,  and  stealing  potatoes  from  the  nearest  grocery- 
man  would  place  the  potatoes  in  the  fire  and  cook  them.  The  Elysian  Fields  were  in  Hoboken. 
Jones's  Wood  was  on  the  East  River  front. 

There  was  a  fire  engine  house  on  John  Street  near  Cliff.  The  fire  engine  of  this  house 
was  propelled  by  its  own  steam,  and  I  often  saw  the  engine  puffing  along  John  Street.  A 
firm  of  women  brokers  was  at  44  Broad  Street.  Woodhull  &  Claflin  was  the  title  of  the 
concern.  The  Rutgers  Academy  for  Young  Ladies  was  on  Fifth  Avenue,  opposite  the  old 
reservoir.  During  the  draft  riots  I  saw  the  excited  mob  run  up  Second  Avenue  to  pillage 
and  burn  an  armory  at  Second  Avenue  and  Twenty-first  Street.  The  soldiers  fired  into  the 
mob,  and  I  saw  one  man  carried  through  East  Twelfth  Street  on  a  stretcher.  The  man's 
face  was  torn  away  by  a  gunshot.  The  mob  raced  through  the  streets  of  the  city  hunting  for 
negroes  to  hang  to  the  nearest  lamp-post. 

Dr.  Hyslop's  drug  store  was  on  Thirteenth  Street  and  First  Avenue,  and  Dr.  Miller's, 
Fifteenth  Street  and  First  Avenue.  Graham's  shoe  store,  on  Catharine  Street,  had  a  big 
wooden  boot  outside  the  door.    Drake's  hat  store  was  on  the  lower  Bowery. 

I  recollect  the  stealing  of  A.  T.  Stewart's  body  from  its  grave  in  St.  Mark's  Churchyard. 
This  event  created  intense  excitement.  Stewart  was  the  best  known  man  in  New  York  in  his 
day,  and  the  crime  was  evidently  for  the  purpose  of  ransom.  The  papers  were  filled  with  it 
and  nothing  else  was  talked  of.  It  was  ultimately  restored  as  mysteriously  as  it  had  been 
stolen. 

A  foot  passenger  bridge  stood  at  Fulton  Street  and  Broadway.  I  crossed  the  bridge 
many  times.  In  those  days  the  steeple  of  old  Trinity  Church  was  considered  very  high  and  it 
was  a  landmark  for  those  coming  up  the  bay.  The  Equitable  Life  Assurance  Society's 
building  was  one  of  the  sights  of  the  city.  The  beautiful  steamboats  of  the  Harlem  River 
Line  were  very  fleet  and  were  named  Sylvan  Stream,  Sylvan  Dell  and  Sylvan  Glen.  They 
went  up  the  East  River  to  Harlem.  From  there  you  could  take  a  smaller  steamboat,  which 
carried  you  up  the  Harlem  River  to  High  Bridge.  High  Bridge  was  considered  a  great  en- 
gineering feat  in  those  days  and  every  one  went  to  see  it. 


[52] 


g>t.  Hark'a  Olliitrrl? 


THE  SECOND  OLDEST  CHURCH  EDIFICE  NOW  STANDING  ON  MAN- 
HATTAN ISLAND.  ON  THE  OLDEST  SITE  STILL  OCCUPIED  BY  A 
CHURCH— THE  ORIGINAL  CHAPEL  IN  GOVERNOR  STUYVESANT'S 
FARM  OR  BOUWERIE  —  NOW  AT  SECOND  AVENUE  AND  1  1th  STREET. 
HERE  HE  LIES  BURIED  IN  THE  VAULT  BELOW  THE  TABLET  IN  THE 
VESTIBULE. 

THIS  CHURCH  IS  RICH  IN  HISTORICAL  CONNECTION  WITH  THE 
DUTCH  PERIOD.  AND  WITHIN  ITS  WALLS  ARE  TABLETS  TO  THE 
MEMORY  OF  GOVERNOR  SLOUGHTER  (DIED  1691)  AND  GOVERNOR 
D  T  TOMPKINS  OTHER  NOTED  NAMES  ARE  MAYOR  PHILIP  HONE. 
DR  HARRIS.  EX-PRESIDENT  OF  COLUMBIA  AND  FIRST  RECTOR  OF 
THE  CHURCH.  AND  THOMAS  ADDIS  EMMET.  BROTHER  OF  ROBERT. 
THE  IRISH  PATRIOT.  THE  BODY  OF  A  T.  STEWART  WAS  INTERRED 
HERE   BUT  AFTERWARDS  STOLEN. 

INSIDE  ARE  MEMORIAL  TABLETS  TO  MANY  OLD  NEW  YORKERS,  ALSO 
HANDSOME  STUYVESANT  MEMORIAL  WINDOWS  ERECTED  BY  THE 
DAUGHTERS  OF  HOLLAND  DAMES.  IT  IS  STILL  ATTENDED  BY  MANY 
OF  THE   OLDEST  FAMILIES  IN  TOWN. 

ONLY  TWO  OF  THESE  RARE  ORIGINAL  LITHOGRAPHS  ARE  KNOWN. 
THE  ONE  SHOWN  ABOVE  AND  THE  OTHER  IN  THE  PYNE  COLLECTION. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  ROBERT  60ELET. 


Underground  Road  at  Broadway  and  Warren  Streets 


Who  remembers  the  store  of  Felter  &  Co.  on  Broadway?  Lidgerwood  &  Co.'s  fine 
grocery  store  at  Fourteenth  Street  and  Broadway?  Mealio's  hat  store  on  Broadway,  and 
John  Gelston's  mineral  water  spa  on  Broad  Street  near  Wall?  Gale's  piano  factory  on 
East  Twelfth  Street,  near  Third  Avenue,  and  Moran's  mineral  water  establishment  on  Third 
Avenue  near  Fifteenth  Street?  The  Stuyvesant  pear  tree  that  grew  on  the  northeast  cor- 
ner of  Thirteenth  Street  and  Third  Avenue?  The  tree  was  protected  by  a  high  iron  railing 
around  it. 

The  old  Shakespeare  Inn  in  Twelfth  Street  west  of  Broadway  was  a  quaint  old  place. 

The  genial  Mr.  George  White  who  taught  in  the  public  schools  in  later  years  became  a 
principal.  He  had  a  host  of  friends,  and  his  old  pupils  used  to  "dinner"  him  nearly  every 
year.  The  store  of  E.  D.  Bassford  was  located  in  Cooper  Union  Building.  Station  D  of  the 
Post  Office  was  located  in  the  Bible  House. 

Theiss's  Garden  on  Stuyvesant  Street  near  Third  Avenue  was  a  quiet  resort  for  the 
German  element.  The  yard  in  the  rear  had  gravel  walks  and  nicely  sodded  grass  plots  and 
a  circular  basin,  or  fountain,  with  the  water  dancing  merrily  from  its  centre  all  the  time. 

A  cracker  bakery  stood  on  the  northwest  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and  Third  Avenue, 
and  an  oyster  saloon  was  on  the  southeast  corner.  You  could  go  there  after  the  play  and 
enjoy  an  oyster  stew  with  a  heaping  plate  full  of  cold  slaw  and  a  dish  of  round  crackers — 
all  for  20  cents. 

Who  recollects  the  Dew  Drop  Inn  on  Broadway  and  the  saloons  in  the  cellars  along 
Water  and  North  William  Streets? 

The  beautiful  large  dwelling  of  Senator  Evarts  stood  on  the  corner  of  Second  Avenue 
and  Fourteenth  Street,  the  northwest  corner.  A  beautiful  mansion  was  built  on  the  southwest 
corner  of  Second  Avenue  and  Fifteenth  Street.  I  saw  the  men  laying  the  foundation  of  that 
house. 

The  mansion  of  Hamilton  Fish,  and  grounds,  occupied  the  whole  avenue  front  from 
Seventeenth  to  Eighteenth  Streets.    A  hospital  occupies  the  site  now. 

A  beautiful  dwelling  was  located  on  the  east  side  of  Second  Avenue,  between  Fourteenth 
and  Fifteenth  Streets.  On  each  side  of  the  stoop  leading  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  house 
stood  the  metal  figures  of  two  large  lions.  The  children  of  the  neighborhood  used  to  come  up 
and  peer  in  at  the  figures  of  the  animals;  then  they  would  scamper  away  shouting  that  the 
house  was  haunted. 

The  shot  tower  that  stood  on  Fifty-third  Street  near  the  East  River  belonged  to  the 
Le  Roy  Shot  and  Lead  Manufacturing  Company,  a  concern  that  during  war  times  made 
shot  and  minie  balls  for  the  army. 

The  underground  railway  at  Warren  Street  and  Broadway  was  under  Devlin's  clothing 
store.  The  railway  was  a  large  circular  iron  tube.  In  this  tube  was  the  passenger  car, 
fitting  closely  to  the  sides  of  the  tube.  I  forget  the  motive  power.  The  length  of  the  road 
was  about  400  feet.    An  English  company  built  it  as  an  experiment. 

The  Spingler  Hotel  and  the  building  occupied  by  the  Fenian  Brotherhood  as  their  head- 
quarters were  both  on  Union  Square.    Union  Square  Park  had  a  high  iron  railing  around  it. 

Who  recollects  the  grand  charity  fair  held  years  ago  in  Union  Square  Park?  In 
the  park,  or  the  plaza  north  of  it,  was  erected  a  large  building  of  rough  boards.  The 
boards  were  covered  with  bunting  and  flags.  The  distinguished  company  of  Japanese  that 
visited  New  York  years  ago  had  accommodations  at  the  Hotel  Opera,  the  building  near  the 
northeast  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and  Union  Square.  The  Japanese  filled  all  the  win- 
dows of  the  hotel  as  they  gazed  out  upon  the  immense  crowd  of  people. 


[55] 


The  Great  Sanitaey  Fair  in  Union  Square 


The  one-horse  or  bobtail  cars  used  to  run  to  the  ferries.  When  the  cars  reached 
the  end  of  the  line  they  were  run  upon  a  circular  turntable.  The  driver  would  then  apply 
the  whip  to  the  horse  and  the  animal  would  revolve  the  turntable  to  the  tracks  again,  then 
the  car  was  ready  for  the  return  trip. 

Delmonico's  was  then  on  the  northeast  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and  Fourteenth  Street, 
and  Solari's  on  University  Place. 

Duncan  &  Sons  Co.  had  a  fine  grocery  store  on  Union  Square.  Devlin's  clothing  store, 
Warren  Street  and  Broadway,  in  later  years  moved  up  to  Union  Square. 

By  E.  Jaffray  Phillips 

[Mr.  Phillips  is  another  old  New  Yorker  who  has  kindly  set  down  his  personal  recol- 
lections of  an  older  and  a  vastly  different  day  in  the  history  of  our  town  than  the  present 
generation  knows  of.    His  memories  of  the  troublous  war  days  are  of  deepest  interest.] 

Among  the  popular  playhouses  in  New  York  in  the  '60s  was  the  Eighth  Avenue  Opera 
House,  at  Eighth  Avenue  and  Thirty-fourth  Street.  It  was  under  the  management  of  Josh 
Hart,  and  the  orchestra  leader  was  Dave  Braham.  Such  stars  as  Johnny  Thompson, 
Hughey  Dougherty,  Frank  Kerns  and  Winship  and  Warren  were  the  attractions.  And  who 
does  not  remember  Butler's  at  444  Broadway,  when  Maffit  and  Bartholomew  in  their  panto- 
mimes delighted  the  audience?  They  afterward  went  to  the  Theatre  Comique.  Then  there 
was  Lent's  Circus  on  Fourteenth  Street,  opposite  Irving  Place,  where  Eaton  Stone  and  James 
Robinson,  the  bareback  riders,  performed.  I  saw  the  Ravels  at  Niblo's,  with  Young  America 
in  his  trapeze  acts.  The  plays  were  "Mazulm  the  Night  Owl"  and  "The  White  Knight  and 
the  Red  Gnome."  G.  L.  Fox  played  at  the  old  Bowery  Theatre  with  his  brother,  C.  K.  Fox. 
The  pantomime  was  "Little  Boy  Blue."    They  afterward  went  to  the  Olympic. 

When  the  Great  Eastern  arrived  and  anchored  off  Thirteenth  Street,  North  River,  the 
boatmen  charged  50  cents  to  row  one  around  the  steamer  and  back.  I  remember  Jerry 
Thomas's  place  on  Broadway,  near  Twenty-second  Street,  and  his  gallery  of  portraits.  The 
Loew  bridge  was  standing  at  Broadway  and  Fulton  Street.  There  was  a  photographer  next 
to  the  corner  who  would  ring  a  bell  to  make  people  stop  on  the  bridge  and  have  their  pic- 
tures taken.  I  went  to  school  at  Quackenbos's,  Fourteenth  Street  and  Sixth  Avenue,  and 
Macy's  store  was  on  the  southeast  corner  in  a  four-story  brick  building  and  they  occupied  the 
lower  floor.  Bob  and  Charlie  Macy  were  my  classmates.  The  French  Theatre  was  then  being 
built,  and  we  boys  would  get  on  the  stage  and  recite  our  pieces. 

The  Sanitary  Fair  was  held  in  the  Twenty-second  Regiment  Armory  in  Fourteenth  Street, 
and  the  children's  annex  was  in  Union  Square.  The  buildings  were  at  the  north  end  of  the 
park.  I  remember  seeing  Colonel  Ellsworth's  funeral  passing  up  Fifth  Avenue.  I  remember 
seeing  the  flag  on  the  Arsenal  at  Seventh  Avenue  and  Thirty-fifth  Street  lowered  to  half  mast, 
proclaiming  the  death  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  His  body  lay  in  state  at  the  City  Hall  and  the 
people  went  into  the  park  from  the  Park  Row  side,  then  through  the  lower  part  of  the  hall 
out  to  Broadway.  His  funeral  was  witnessed  by  immense  crowds.  The  city  was  draped  in 
black.    The  Seventh  Regiment  acted  as  bodyguard. 

I  lived  in  Thirty-fourth  Street  during  the  war  and  witnessed  many  a  scene  during  the 
draft  riots;  the  burning  of  the  colored  orphan  asylum,  the  wrecking  of  Horace  Greeley's 
home.  Captain  Walling,  afterward  superintendent  of  police,  had  charge  of  the  Twentieth 
precinct.  Peter  Hart  was  a  policeman  there.  He  was  the  man  who  took  Mrs.  Anderson  to 
join  her  husband,  Major  Anderson,  in  Fort  Sumter.  I  remember  the  first  steam  fire  engine 
in  the  Twentieth  Ward.    It  was  Valley  Forge  46  and  was  housed  in  West  Thirty-sixth  Street 


[56] 


COPYRIGHT    1913     H    C  BROWN 

alir  ISiarbnr  an&  thr  USattrry,  1350 


ONE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  BORNET  VIEWS.  FIGURES  BY  E.  VALOIS  AND 
DRAWN  BY  HIM  ON  STONE.  PRINTED  AT  D  McLELLAN'S.  26  SPRUCE 
STREET. 

AN  EXTREMELY  INTERESTING  VIEW  OF  THIS  SECTION  OF  OUR  CITY 
AT  THE  HEIGHT  OF  ITS  POPULARITY  THE  COSTUMES  AND  ACCES- 
SORIES CORRECTLY  DEPICT  THE  DRESS  AND  THE  COSMOPOLITAN 
CHARACTER  OF  THE  PARADE,  AS  IT  WAS  CALLED.  IN  THE  PICTURE 
ARE  SHOWN  THE  STATEN  ISLAND  FERRY.  THE  ATLANTIC  DOCKS. 
GOVERNOR  S  ISLAND.  FORT  WILLIAM.  THE  NARROWS.  STATEN  ISLAND 
QUARANTINE.  BEDLOW  S  ISLAND.  ELLIS  ISLAND  (THEN  A  POWDER 
MAGAZINE).  AND  TO  THE  RIGHT.  BUT  IN  THE  DISTANCE.  CASTLE 
GARDEN. 

THE  SHIPS  ARE  THE  FRENCH  MAN-O'-WAR  '  MOGADORE  '  AND  THE 
WHITE  STAR  LINER  "BALTIC."  AND  LOCAL  FERRIES  AND  RIVER 
BOATS  OF  THE  PERIOD 

A  BEAUTIFUL.  PERFECT  COPY  OF  AN  OLD-TIME  LITHOGRAPH  RARELY 
FOUND  TO-DAY  IN  GOOD  CONDITION 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR    PERCY    R    PTNE  2ND 


The  Seventh  Regiment  Leaves  foe  the  War 


near  Seventh  Avenue.  I  remember  the  flocks  of  sheep  that  were  driven  through  the  streets, 
and  all  traffic  ceased  on  the  avenue  to  let  them  pass.  The  Knickerbocker  stage  stables  were 
at  Twenty-third  Street  and  Eighth  Avenue,  where  the  Grand  Opera  House  stands.  It  was  a 
four  story  building  with  wide  high  doors  opening  on  Eighth  Avenue.  A  statue  of  Father 
Knickerbocker  stood  in  a  niche  in  the  front.  This  statue  is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Shep- 
herd family.  Does  any  one  remember  McMillan's  skating  rink  on  Fifth  Avenue  and  Forty- 
sixth  Street,  and  the  New  York  Club's  rink  at  Fifty-ninth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,  and  Beek- 
man's  Pond  east  of  the  Arsenal  in  Central  Park,  between  Fourth  and  Fifth  Avenues,  and  the 
old  dead  tree  in  the  centre,  which  was  "hunk"  for  all  our  games  on  the  ice? 

I  remember  the  departure  of  the  Seventh  Regiment  for  the  war  in  1861,  and  the  ova- 
tion on  its  march  down  Broadway  was  the  grandest  ever  given  to  any  body  of  troops  in  New 
York.  The  City  Hall  Park,  which  extended  down  to  Ann  Street,  and  the  Battery  Park  were 
full  of  recruiting  booths,  with  a  drill  ground. 

The  old  custom  of  calling  on  New  Year's  Day,  which  was  universally  observed,  was  an 
interesting  feature  of  city  life.  Nearly  every  one  kept  open  house  to  receive  friends,  who 
came  in  carriages,  and  if  the  snow  was  on  the  ground  sleighs  were  used.  I  have  seen  whole 
stage  loads  and  sleighfuls  of  people  going  their  rounds.  Those  who  did  not  receive  simply 
hung  a  small  basket  on  the  door  knob  to  receive  cards. 

The  Elysian  Fields  at  Hoboken  was  a  great  resort  for  baseball  and  other  outdoor  sports. 
The  clubs  were  the  Gothams,  Eagles,  Mutuals  and  a  number  of  amateur  teams.  The  club- 
house of  the  New  York  Yacht  Club  was  established  there,  and  the  races  were  started  from 
that  point. 

/ 

Here  follow  some  personal  first-hand  recollections  of  rare  historical  value, 
from  old  friends: 

The  average  young  person  in  New  York  will  find  it  hard  to  realize  that  some  of  our 
busiest  streets  were  not  long  ago  popular  residential  localities  inhabited  by  the  middle  and 
well-to-do  classes,  that  an  air  of  almost  Bronx-like  stillness  pervaded  them  after  dark,  and  that 
sleighs  were  a  common  sight  in  winter  for  almost  four  months.  Agreeable  sections  were  old 
Greenwich  Village,  comprising,  roughly,  from  Chambers  and  Hudson  Streets,  Seventh  and 
Greenwich  Avenues  to  Fourteenth  Street,  and  the  section  bounded  by  Bleecker  Street,  Second 
Avenue,  Twenty-third  Street  and  Sixth  Avenue. 

Old  readers  may  recall  the  two  residences  of  R.  and  L.  Stuart,  occupied  by  them  up  to 
the  '70s,  alongside  of  their  sugar  refinery,  corner  Chambers  and  Greenwich  Streets ;  the  little 
wooden  church  at  Franklin  Street  and  West  Broadway,  later  a  vinegar  factory ;  the  famous 
North  Moore  Street  school;  St.  John's  Park  (key,  $10  a  year);  "St.  John's  in  the  Fields 
Church"  (1804),  and  the  Saturday  morning  dole  of  bread  by  bequest,  to  a  specified  number 
of  people ;  Laight  Street  Baptist  Church ;  and  where  now  the  grim  and  frowning  warehouses 
stand  on  Beach  and  Laight  were  fine  broad  houses  overlooking  the  heavily  wooded  parks, 
Captain  John  Ericsson  of  Monitor  fame  lived  at  36  Beach  Street  until  his  death  in  1889.  St. 
John's  Park  was  laid  out  in  1821.  The  houses  built  at  the  same  time,  but  antedating  the 
introduction  of  Croton  water  in  1842,  had  no  bathrooms,  an  absence  very  common  to  some  of 
the  best  houses  in  the  city,  and  often  unsupplied  later,  because  it  must  be  confessed  that 
our  forebears  were  not  as  clean  as  we  are.  The  parlor  doors  were  solid  cherry,  and  they,  with 
beautiful  black  mantels  with  flesh-colored  tissue  and  veinlike  streakings,  were  removed  by 
owners  previous  to  demolition  or  relinquishment  to  tenement  purposes  (pine  and  slate  being 
substituted),  and  the  others  now  adorn  many  country  mansions  in  nearby  suburbs. 


[59] 


Famous  Residences  of  Famous  People 


It  will  seem  almost  incredible  to  those  comparatively  new  to  the  city,  but  old-timers  will 
confirm  the  statement,  that  the  town  in  the  two  localities  mentioned  was  filled  with  beautiful 
trees,  even  if  it  had  execrable  and  filthy  pavements.  Let  one  picture  the  sweet,  quiet  seclu- 
sion of  St.  John's  Park,  the  graveyard  on  the  present  site  of  the  park  at  Leroy  and  Hud- 
son Streets,  Abingdon  Square,  the  narrow  and  Dickenslike  Varick,  Vandam,  Bedford,  Com- 
merce, Barrow  and  other  streets,  the  intersection  of  West  Fourth  and  West  Eleventh  Streets, 
all  so  still  that  the  growing  grass  between  the  cobbles  could  almost  be  heard,  while  a  gener- 
ally bucolic  air  prevailed. 

Washington  Square,  guarded  on  one  side  by  the  gray,  dignified  New  York  University, 
demolished  in  1894* ;  the  aristocratic  Waverly  and  Washington  Places  behind,  and  a  stone 
church  on  the  next  corner;  the  Auchmuty  mansion  and  the  New  York  Society  Library,  es- 
tablished 1754  and  now  standing  farther  up  University  Place.  The  other  sides  of  the  square 
were  the  present  houses,  built  mostly  in  the  '30s,  and  occupied  by  Commodore  Vander- 
bilt,  Mrs.  Hicks  Lord,  Gen.  Geo.  B.  McClellan,  the  Coopers,  De  Forrests,  Rhinelanders,  De 
Peysters,  and  throngs  of  other  Dutch  descendants,  whose  overflow  extended  up  Fifth  Avenue 
and  intersecting  streets,  giving  the  locality  the  title  of  the  Knickerbocker  neighborhood, 
which  it  bears  to  this  day,  because  many  of  the  residents  proudly  defy  all  powers  but  death  to 
remove  them. 

John  H.  Aspinwall  occupied  a  beautiful  house  at  University  Place  and  Tenth  Street. 
Annexed  to  it  were  huge  stables  and  an  art  gallery  built  above.  At  present  the  whole  struc- 
ture is  devoted  to  the  sale  of  second-hand  furniture.  The  then  very  fashionable  University 
Place  Presbyterian  Church,  still  standing,  was  opposite.  C.  H.  McCormick,  the  inventor  of 
the  harvester  and  reaper,  lived  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Eleventh  Street  and  Fifth  Ave- 
nue ;  August  Belmont  at  corner  of  Eighteenth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,  now  Constable  Build- 
ing; Professor  S.  F.  B.  Morse,  5  West  Twenty-second  Street;  General  Winfield  Scott  in 
Ninth  Street;  N.  P.  Willis  and  Governor  Lucius  Robinson  in  Third  Street.  Chester  A. 
Arthur  died  in  34  West  Twenty-first  Street,  William  Cullen  Bryant  in  24  West  Sixteenth  Street. 
Dan  Bryant  in  his  palmy  days  lived  in  Fifteenth  Street,  between  Fifth  and  Sixth  Avenues. 
At  Twenty-first  Street,  on  the  southwest  corner,  stood  a  marble  church.  Opposite  was  the 
Union  Club,  which  bought  the  site  in  1854  for  $60,000,  and  sold  it  in  1901  for  $650,000. 
The  Brevoort  Hotel  of  the  '60s  was  beautifully  encompassed  with  trees  and  entertained  many 
noble  and  aristocratic  visitors  from  abroad. 

Dr.  Bellows  preached  at  Sixteenth  Street  and  Union  Square  West.  Brentano's  first 
venture  as  a  newsdealer  was  in  a  basement  dining-room  in  a  house  near  by,  among  the  first 
relinquished  to  business.  Up  to  1865  all  the  houses  surrounding  the  square  were  private,  and 
one  of  the  most  notable  was  that  of  a  Roosevelt  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Broadway  and 
Fourteenth  Street,  an  uncle  of  the  ex-President,  from  whom  the  latter  derived  much  of  his 
fortune.  Of  brownstone,  heavily  trimmed,  with  great  scrolled  consoles  at  parlor  windows 
and  broad-topped  balustered  stone  fences  surrounding  front  and  sides  and  enclosing  the 
stoop,  it  was  an  impressive  structure.  The  young  Theodore  lived  in  28  East  Twentieth 
Street.  Two  houses,  still  standing,  35  East  Nineteenth  Street,  and  53  East  Twentieth  Street, 
sheltered  till  they  died,  in  the  '70s,  Horace  Greeley,  and  Alice  and  Phoebe  Cary,  the  gentle 
poetesses.  The  Hon.  John  Bigelow  lived  on  Gramercy  Square;  a  great  hotel  of  the  name 
faced  it,  and  nearby  lived  the  Hon.  Hamilton  Fish  and  Samuel  J.  Tilden.  Irving  Place  was 
also  select,  along  with  Stuyvesant  Square,  with  the  then  two-steepled  St.  George's  Church, 
the  quaint  Friends'  Meeting  House  and  School,  and  these  squares  with  a  few  changes  bid  fair 
for  a  long  time  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  trade. 


[60] 


ANOTHER  RARE  STEPHENSON  LITHOGRAPH.  PRINTED  BY  BOELL  AND 
MUCHILUI.  GILSEY  BUILDING,  169  BROADWAY.  1856. 
ASIDE  FROM  THIS  STEPHENSON  VIEW.  NO  DELINEATION  OF  THIS 
SECTION  OF  BROADWAY  IS  NOW  AVAILABLE.  MOST  OF  THE  HOUSES 
PAID  FOR  THE  SIGNS  WHICH  APPEAR  ON  THE  BUILDINGS,  WHICH 
GUARANTEES  THE  CORRECTNESS.  THE  FIGURES  IN  THE  FORE- 
GROUND ARE  ESPECIALLY  INTERESTING  AND  ARE  TYPICAL  OF  THE 
TIME.  NOWHERE  ELSE  DO  WE  FIND  SUCH  EXCELLENT  STREET 
SCENES  AS   IN   THESE   VIEWS   OF   STEPHENSON  S. 


St.  Patrick's  Cathedral  in  Mulberry  Street 


When  we  consider  the  roar  of  traffic  and  the  hurrying  thousands  now  at  all  hours  to 
be  heard  and  seen  in  these  sections,  it  is  only  those  who  recall  forty  years  ago  that  can  bring 
to  memory  the  placidity  of  the  almost  rural  surroundings ;  all  the  houses  had  plots  of  grass 
enclosed,  and  the  streets  were  tree-canopied. 

Great  things  surely  occurred  in  the  general  vicinity  of  Astor  and  Lafayette  places  be- 
tween about  1848  and  1855,  because  within  this  period  were  erected  the  Dutch  Reformed 
Church,  corner  of  Great  Jones  Street  and  Lafayette  Place;  Grace  Church,  Astor  Library, 
Mercantile  Library,  St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  Grand  Central  (enlarged  from  the  Southern),  Cooper 
Union,  Bible  House,  Centre  Market  and  Seventh  Regiment  Armory  building,  and  the  new 
Historical  Library  on  Second  Avenue.  Plimpton,  the  inventor  of  the  roller  skate,  erected  on 
East  Ninth  Street,  between  Second  and  Third  Avenues,  a  building,  and  demonstrated  to  the 
fashionables  of  the  day  that  he  could  manufacture  the  richest  upholstered  furniture  equal  to 
that  previously  procured  from  abroad.    His  descendants  still  occupy  the  premises  (1913). 

Preaching  continued  in  Dr.  Spring's  Church,  Park  Row,  Nassau  and  Beekman  Streets, 
until  1857 ;  at  the  North  Dutch  Church,  William  and  Fulton  Streets,  and  also  at  St.  George's, 
Beekman  and  Cliff  Streets,  until  1868.  In  1860  Dr.  Theodore  L.  Cuyler  resigned  the  pastor- 
ate of  the  Market  Street  Reformed  Dutch  Church  because  he  could  not  influence  his  congre- 
gation to  sell  the  site  and  seek  uptown  quarters.  Trinity,  St.  Paul's,  and  the  John  Street  Meth- 
odist Churches,  being  historic  in  association,  still  remain. 

Christian  Science  was  still  unthought  of  and  the  Catholic  Church  was  still  few  in  num- 
bers and  just  beginning  to  give  promise  of  its  present  importance.  The  latter's  chief  edifice 
was  St.  Patrick's,  a  modest  structure  then  in  Mulberry  Street,  and  in  nowise  suggesting  the 
present  imposing  Cathedral  on  Fifth  Avenue  to  which  it  removed  some  twenty-odd  years  ago. 

Freight  cars  were  pulled  by  four  or  six  horses  from  Twenty-seventh  Street  Depot  to 
White  and  Centre  Streets,  and  as  they  passed  through  the  Bowery  men  and  boys  would  climb 
on  the  rear.  The  company  hired  men  with  clubs  who  would  pounce  out  upon  these  men  and 
boys  and  pound  their  legs  and  knees  and  clear  the  cars. 

Song  peddlers  would  string  about  four  rows  of  cords,  100  feet  long,  on  the  City  Hall 
iron  fence  and  attach  songs  by  small  wooden  pins  to  the  cord.  Rich  and  poor  used  to  stop 
and  read  and  sometimes  buy  at  a  penny  apiece. 

Apple  women  selling  Washington  pies  also  lined  the  fences  here  and  at  Battery  Park 
and  Union  Square.    William  M.  Tweed  had  these  fences  removed. 

Every  boy  had  to  "belong"  to  a  fire  engine  company  in  those  days,  and  if  he  got  into 
the  wrong  bailiwick  he  was  sure  to  get  a  black  eye. 

Who  doesn't  remember  9,  Old  Rock,  on  Marion  Street;  33,  Black  Jake,  on  Houston 
Street;  3,  Forest,  in  Eleventh  Street  (I  believe),  and  the  fights  they  used  to  have  in  the 
Haymarket,  Seventh  Street  and  Third  and  Fourth  Avenues? 

There  used  to  be  a  bell  tower  between  the  City  Hall  and  the  new  Court  House. 

The  old  Bowery  Theatre,  next  to  the  Atlantic  Garden,  was  run  by  Fox  (G.  L.)  and  Lin- 
gard,  and  when  they  quarrelled  Lingard  opened  the  New  Bowery  on  the  next  block.  The  new 
theatre  burned  down  later. 

The  school  principal  was  an  autocrat,  and  the  boy  who  never  got  licked  by  him  was  con- 
sidered no  good  by  his  fellow  pupils.  In  the  morning  we  prepared  our  hands  by  rubbing 
rosin  on  them,  and  then  the  whipping  would  not  pain  us,  and  if  we  pulled  three  or  four  hairs 
from  our  eyelashes  and  laid  those  on  the  rosin,  that  was  a  sure  preventive  of  pain.  When  the 
principal  discovered  the  rosin  we  would  get  it  around  the  legs,  too. 


[63] 


Dime  Novels  and  Penny  Dreadful  Literature 


The  Sun  was  a  four-page  paper  with  a  continued  story  each  day.  The  New  York  Ledger 
was  the  ladies'  paper,  and  we  boys  revelled  in  Marryat's,  Captain  Mayne  Reid's  and  Beadle's 
ten-cent  novels.  These  last  we  had  to  hide  from  our  parents.  We  would  take  turns  at  buy- 
ing Beadles  as  they  came  out  and  pass  them  around. 

Boys  always  left  school  in  bunches,  for  if  they  went  alone  they  were  sure  to  be  held  up 
by  toughs. 

In  those  days  the  leaders  from  roofs  were  all  on  the  fronts  of  houses,  and  there  was  a 
groove  in  the  sidewalk  to  the  gutter  at  every  house,  and  sometimes  the  sinks  of  houses  were 
run  into  these  leaders,  so  that  on  wash-days  a  sudden  gush  of  soapsuds  would  flow  over  the 
sidewalks. 

Households  still  had  candle  snuffers  and  bellows.  Camphine  and  alcohol  were  used  for 
lamps.  Letter  carriers  charged  one  cent  for  delivery,  and  often  letters  were  refused.  Those 
were  the  days  of  copper  cents  and  filthy  postage  stamps,  and  every  storekeeper  had  a  "bank 
note  detector."  Sometimes  the  bank  note  would  be  good  when  received,  and  before  paying  it 
out  the  bank  would  have  failed.  We  had  bills  of  denominations  of  one,  two,  three,  four,  five  and 
six  dollars. 

To  get  a  telegram  was  an  event  and  usually  meant  sad  news.  No  telephone,  no  electric 
light,  no  trolleys,  no  heat  in  cars,  no  hot  water  in  houses,  no  furnace  heat,  yet  those  were 
good  days  and  a  dollar  went  farther  than  it  does  to-day.  When  Barnum's  Museum  on  Broad- 
way and  Ann  Street  burned,  the  whale  was  killed  and  lay  for  two  days  in  the  gutter. 

****** 

Joseph  Hay  dock  speaks  of  M.  Julien  and  his  wonderful  concerts  at  the  Crystal  Palace 
and  how  he  succeeded  in  burning  that  down  one  evening  when  performing  the  Firemen's  Quad- 
rilles. It  was  my  privilege  to  listen  to  those  quadrilles  and  they  were  "something  grand."  The 
Palace,  however,  didn't  burn  down  one  evening,  but  one  bright  afternoon,  October  14,  1858. 
An  old  fire  laddie,  I  was  present  at  that  fire  in  company  with  Mr.  Ely  Bates,  ex-chief,  retired, 
and  84  years  young,  then  foreman  of  Guardian  Engine  Company  No.  29. 

At  that  time  we  were  working  on  the  Rutgers  Institute  buildings,  east  side  of  Fifth 
Avenue,  directly  opposite  the  old  reservoir,  being  brothership  mechanics  (bricklayers). 
Suddenly  an  immense,  very  black  cloud  of  smoke  and  bright  flame  shot  up  fully  fifty  feet  in 
the  air.  Bates  shouted,  "Come  quick,  boys ;  run  for  it !"  His  first  impulse  was  to  run  out  Amity 
Hose  carriage,  and  I  think  it  was  39  engine,  both  on  exhibition.  Quick  as  we  could  we  got  out- 
side of  our  overalls,  slid  down  four  ladders  and  cut  for  the  entrance  on  the  Sixth  Avenue 
side;  but,  good  Lordy,  we  never  reached  it,  not  by  100  feet,  and  were  driven  back  by  the 
fierce  heat.  In  twenty  minutes  by  the  watch  that  elegant  structure  of  iron  and  glass  was 
level  with  the  ground.  The  rapidity  of  the  flames  was  due  principally  to  the  large  area  of 
the  floors  and  stairways,  constructed  of  yellow  pitch  pine  timber,  and  the  great  amount  of 
combustible  material  the  building  contained.  So  intense  was  the  heat  that  the  iron,  glass, 
silver  and  other  metals  fused;  the  large  granite  capstones  of  the  old  reservoir  adjoining 
crumbled,  scaled  and  burst  from  their  beds  in  chunks  larger  than  beer  kegs,  falling  to  the 
earth.  Mr.  Bates  yet  insists  it  was  the  quickest,  fiercest  and  hottest  fire  that  ever  occurred 
in  New  York  City. 

This  Amity  Hose  carriage  was  a  most  beautiful  creation,  very  light  and  airy.  All  the 
mountings  were  of  sterling  silver,  even  to  the  handles  at  the  end  of  its  tongue.  I  can  best 
describe  its  beauty  by  the  remarks  of  one  old  fire  fighter  to  his  chum:  "I  say,  Jakey,  isn't  she 
the  queenie?  All  she  needs  is  silver  wings  and  she  would  fly."  The  engine  was  a  good  second 
at  that. 


[64] 


COPYRIGHT    1913    H    C  BROWN 


THIS  IS  A  VIEW  OF  ANOTHER  OLD-TIME  CRACK  REGIMENT  —  THE 
38th  JEFFERSON  GUARDS.  N.  Y.  STATE  ARTILLERY,  A  BUST  POR- 
TRAIT OF  THE  COLONEL  WITH  FLAGS  AND  CROSSED  CANNONS  IS 
SHOWN  IN  THE  MARGIN  OF  THE  ORIGINAL.  THE  BACKGROUND 
SHOWS  THE  CITY  HALL  AND  HALL  OF  RECORDS  AND  THE  MEN 
IN  THE  FOREGROUND  ARE  DRAWN  FROM  LIFE.  THE  FACES  BEING 
PORTRAITS  AND  EASILY  RECOGNIZABLE 
LITHOGRAPHED   BY  F.  FRITSCH.    EXTREMELY  RARE. 

FROM    THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  PERCY   R.  PYNE.  2ND 


Brave  Work  of  Volunteer  Firemen 


Who  remembers  the  large  wooden  observation  tower,  said  to  be  150  feet  in  height,  that 
P.  T.  Barnum  was  largely  interested  in,  but  which  proved  an  utter  failure,  few  caring  to 
climb  its  many  steps?  It  stood  just  north  of  the  Palace.  And  how  about  the  great  fun  we 
used  to  have  in  those  side  shows  those  days? 

A  terrible  calamity  early  in  the  '60s  was  occasioned  by  the  explosion  of  the  boiler  in  the 
four-story  brick  and  iron  building  in  Hague  Street,  near  Pearl  Street,  in  the  morning  shortly 
after  the  employees  to  the  number  of  about  100  men  and  boys  had  commenced  work.  If  any 
are  alive  who  were  at  the  fire  which  ensued  they  surely  will  remember  it  as  one  of  the  most 
appalling  calamities  that  have  ever  befallen  old  New  York. 

The  destruction  was  so  complete  that  the  ruins  were  only  about  thirty  feet  high;  the 
building  was  about  100  feet  square,  and  to  add  to  the  horror  fire  broke  out  in  the  ruins. 

There  were  three  of  us  who  belonged  to  Engine  Company  4,  located  in  Great  Jones 
Street,  who  responded  to  the  fire  alarm:  William  Story,  Uzal  P.  Barker  and  myself,  who 
on  our  arrival  at  the  ruins  set  to  work  in  extricating  those  that  were  entombed  in  that  pile 
of  bricks,  stone  and  iron ;  and  while  prospecting  as  to  where  to  commence  our  work  we  heard 
the  voice  of  a  boy  that  was  buried  about  thirty  feet  distant  under  the  ruins,  who  proved  to  be 
Frederick  Tyman,  and  after  a  hurried  examination  we  concluded  that  the  only  way  to  reach 
him  was  by  tunneling  under  the  ruins,  which  we  did  by  working  by  relays  on  our  hands  and 
knees,  passing  the  bricks  and  iron  from  one  to  the  other  until  we  reached  him;  and  then,  to 
our  chagrin,  we  found  a  steel  shaft  about  one  and  three-quarter  inches  in  diameter  which 
extended  up  in  front  of  the  boy's  head.  We  then  had  to  clear  away  a  space  large  enough  to 
sling  a  sledgehammer  and  break  the  shaft. 

We  found  Tyman  lying  between  two  beams,  and  he  was  not  seriously  injured.  When 
we  got  to  Tyman  we  found  another  boy  lying  between  the  same  two  beams,  whose  name  was 
Tindale,  who  was  not  seriously  injured.  They  were  both  brave  boys.  We  frequently  had  to 
put  a  stream  of  water  over  them,  as  fire  threatened  them,  of  which  they  always  gave  us  notice. 
This  day's  work  was  the  hardest  and  most  trying  that  I  ever  experienced  in  my  long  service 
in  the  Volunteer  Fire  Department.  It  took  us  from  8.30  A.  M.  to  2.30  P.  M.  to  accom- 
plish this  task,  which  I  shall  never  forget. 

When  the  candle  factory  at  First  Avenue  and  Fourth  Street  burned  down  in  1864  I 
can  never  forget  how  near  I  came  to  being  run  over  when  the  firemen  came  down  First 
Avenue  on  the  sidewalks  with  their  machines,  as  the  road  was  blocked  by  a  herd  of  cattle 
going  to  the  slaughterhouses  in  Fifth  Street,  where  Public  School  25  now  stands.  I  can  feel 
my  back  yet  where  I  "caught  it"  when  as  a  boy  I  strayed  out  of  the  house  of  Live  Oak 
Hose  44  in  Houston  Street,  up  in  the  bailiwick  of  Engine  7,  and  forgot  that  I  had  a  44  badge 
on  my  shirt.  My  legs  alone  saved  my  scalp.  What  a  joke  on  44  when  the  city  erected  the 
large  lamp-post  in  Houston  Street  Square  with  the  number  44  on  top  of  each  lamp,  and 
Engine  7  boys  put  a  tin  7  on  top  of  each  44.  Those  were  happy  days  and  will  never  come 
back.    They  are  pleasant  memories  all  right. 


[67] 


LARGE  FAMILIES  THE  RULE  IN  THE  '50s  AND  '60s 


HARD  LUCK  OF  THE  ELDEST  BOY 

In  these  days  of  so-called  race  suicide  it  is  refreshing  to  know  that  our  fathers 
and  mothers  were  not  averse  to  the  trials  and  responsibilities — with  its  pleasures 
— of  a  large  family. 

When  the  oldest  boy  in  the  average  huge  family  of  the  '50s  and  '60s— 8  to  12  being 
the  rule  and  not  the  exception — reached  about  12  he  became,  so  to  speak,  the  father  and 
nurse  of  the  younger  brothers  and  sisters,  as  their  care  in  a  measure  devolved  on  him,  he 
being  a  sort  of  packhorse  of  the  family.  Woodsheds  were  in  plenty,  and  that  combustible, 
generally  cheaper  than  coal,  was  brought  in  and  sold  by  the  cord  from  New  Jersey  and  Long 
Island.  Some  houses  had  chutes  in  the  centre  of  the  sidewalks,  pitched  at  an  angle  of  45 
degrees  toward  the  cellar,  and  through  these  the  boys  thrust  the  logs,  with  the  tedious  neces- 
sity of  frequently  descending  in  order  to  break  the  jam,  which  when  released  pursued  the 
wretches  as  they  fled  backward.  Armed  with  a  bucksaw  and  an  axe  of  age  to  suggest  its 
service  in  the  Crusades,  and  attired  with  sweat  and  growlings,  he  proceeded  to  make  fire- 
wood. 

He  also  put  in  the  coal  and  shovelled  snow  from  the  walk,  when  he  was  not  spading  the 
garden  or  cutting  grass.  As  storekeepers  delivered  no  goods,  on  Saturday  mornings  in 
particular,  it  was  his  curse  to  accompany  his  mother  to  Washington,  Fulton,  Tompkins, 
Clinton  or  some  far  distant  market  always  preferred  by  her,  and  carry  home  the  purchases 
in  a  basket  of  unholy  weight  and  size,  and  then  he  was  assigned  to  window  cleaning  or  some 
such  gentle  task.  There  was  very  little  respect  entertained  for  a  boy,  and  he  was  economical 
in  the  entertainment  of  any  for  himself. 

When  chairs  and  bedsteads  were  of  a  condition  dangerous  for  repose  of  others,  they 
were  assigned  to  the  room  of  the  boys,  who  slept  two  or  three  abreast  and  the  same  number 
in  depth.  Frequently  in  the  dead  of  night  the  parents,  hearing  a  tremendous  crash  over- 
head, would  comfort  themselves  with  the  confidence  that  it  was  only  the  bed  had  broken 
down,  and  the  boys  were  not  wakened  by  the  father  until  early  morning,  when  he  would  count 
and  disentangle  them  with  words  or  something  harder. 

They  were  not  especially  partial  to  water  on  winter  mornings  and  would  dry-curry  their 
hair  and  sneak  in  to  buckwheat  cakes,  but  when  mother  would  discover  that  the  ice  in  the 
wash  pitcher  was  unbroken,  father  would  break  forth  and  the  boys  would  try  to  flee,  be- 
cause the  old  gentleman  had  a  strong  arm  in  chiding,  fulfilling  the  Scriptural  injunction, 
"Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might,"  and  the  "mites"  got  it.  The 
clothing  of  the  cubs  was  awfully  and  wonderfully  made.  When  those  of  dad  grew  mirror- 
like in  shininess  of  wear  they  were  taken  apart,  turned,  and  some  things  for  the  boys  were 
slammed  together. 

It  seems  as  though  he  was  laid  out  on  a  large  sheet  of  paper,  his  form  pencilled  in 
outline,  and  then  chance,  skill  or  Providence  did  the  rest,  and  if  the  clothes  didn't  fit, 
why,  he  had  fits  of  another  character.     He  was  rarely  entrusted  with  an  entire  bosom 


[68] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H    C  BROWN 

ilpgarpy's  Sate  ^rint  of  ffimurr  Sniabmau  in  1&2.5 


THIS  SHOWS  AN  AFTERNOON  VIEW  OF  LOWER  BROADWAY  IN  1825. 
THE  HOUSES  ONTHE  LEFTWERE  OCCUPIED  BY  THE  KENNEDY,  WATTS 
AND  LIVINGSTON  FAMILIES.  AND  WERE  REPRESENTATIVE  OF  THE 
BEST  TYPE  OF  DWELLING  AT  THAT  TIME.  DURING  THE  REVOLUTION 
SIR  HENRY  CLINTON.  SIR  GUY  CARLETON  AND  GENERAL  LORD  HOWE 
LIVED  IN  NO  I,  ARNOLD.  THE  TRAITOR.  LIVED  HERE  FOR  A  TIME. 
AND  WASHINGTON  ALSO.  WHILE  THE  PRESIDENTS  HOUSE  WAS 
BUILDING.  THIS  SECTION  WAS  THE  CENTRE  OF  FASHION.  THE 
STREETS  ADJACENT  (BOWLING  GREEN.  STATE  AND  GREENWICH) 
BEING  ALSO  THE  HOMES  OF  THE  WEALTHIER  CLASS.  ROBERT  FUL- 
TON DIED  IN  A  HOUSE  IN  THE  REAR  OF  NO  I,  THE  COSTUMES. 
CARRIAGES.  ETC  .  ARE  TYPICAL  OF  THE"  DAY 

THIS  IS  ONE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  MEGAREY  PRINTS  NOW  RARELY  SEEN. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR    ROBERT  GOELET. 


Eldest  Boy  Succeeds  to  His  Father's  Clothes 


shirt,  but  wore  a  "dickey,"  a  heart-shaped  piece  of  starched  linen  over  his  chest,  fur- 
nishing an  excellent  handle  for  companions  to  drag  him  around  the  street  when  both  of  his 
hands  were  occupied  in  carrying  the  dough  pan  to  the  corner  bakery,  where  "family  bak- 
ing" was  conducted  between  10  A.  M.  and  3  P.  M. 

Remnants  from  his  father's  clothes  furnished  caps,  all  hatters  being  practical  and  mak- 
ing up  the  former  from  people's  own  material.  These  were  of  marvellous  creation,  one 
type  in  particular,  when  the  remnants  were  small,  being  built  like  a  Chinese  pagoda,  flaring 
outward  to  a  hexagon-shaped  crown  or  terrace,  and  surmounted  by  a  huge  button,  or 
worse,  a  tassel.  To  guard  against  the  wind  they  were  made  to  fit  tight,  and  when  re- 
moved by  considerable  effort,  they  emitted  a  slight  suction  report  and  left  on  the  head  a 
livid  ring,  as  though  some  one  had  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  scalp  the  wearer.  An- 
other horror  of  his  life  was  the  uncomfortable  "comforter"  which  his  fond  mother  used 
to  knit  of  worsted  to  keep  his  neck  warm,  which  he  would  dutifully  wear  on  leaving  home, 
only  to  change  to  his  waist  so  as  to  keep  his  throat  clear  for  "hollering"  exercise,  because, 
anyway,  all  his  colds  were  contracted  through  wet  feet  in  the  absence  of  the  habit  of  wear- 
ing rubbers. 


A.  T.  STEWART'S  &  BROOKS  BROS/  FIRST  STORE,  1850 

A  very  good  illustration  of  the  tremendous  growth  of  New  York  in  the  last 
fifty  years  is  shown  in  the  present  size  of  Wanamaker's  stores  at  Broadway  and 
Ninth  Street,  and  Brooks  Bros.'  at  Twenty-second  Street.  Both  of  these  stores 
had  their  origin  in  Catharine  Street. 

Wanamaker  really  succeeded  the  great  business  of  A.  T.  Stewart  &  Co.,  and 
although  Stewart  was  easily  the  greatest  merchant  of  his  day,  John  Wanamaker 
does  not  suffer  by  comparison.    The  following  contribution  is  pertinent: 

The  old  Walton  House  in  Pearl  Street  was  built  of  brick  brought  from  Holland.  The 
gardens  of  the  house  ran  down  to  the  river  at  the  foot  of  Water  Street.  In  those  days  there 
was  no  Front  Street  or  South  Street.  These  two  streets  were  filled  in  long  after  and  were 
what  is  called  made  ground.  Pearl  Street,  from  Beekman  Street  to  Maiden  Lane,  had  noth- 
ing but  dry-goods  stores  in  it,  and  if  you  wanted  a  spool  of  cotton  or  some  muslins  you  had 
to  go  there  to  be  supplied.  A.  T.  Stewart  had  his  dry-goods  store  in  Catharine  Street,  and 
on  the  corner  of  this  street  and  Water  Street  were  Brooks  Brothers,  now  in  business  at 
Twenty-second  Street  and  Broadway.  How  proud  the  small  boy  was  in  getting  his  first 
suit  of  clothes  made  here !  His  blue  j  acket,  nankeen  vest,  and  a  small  plaid  pair  of  pants 
were  the  last  word  in  style,  the  only  annoyance  being  that  there  was  but  one  pocket,  and 
that  an  outside  one,  in  the  jacket. 


[71] 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  VISITOR  IN  '61 


This  is  a  picture  of  the  city  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  War.  Many 
of  the  hotels,  etc.,  are  no  longer  in  existence,  but  the  picture  of  the  town  is  ad- 
mirable : 

"I  first  visited  the  city  in  June,  1861.  I  stopped  at  the  old  Dey  Street  House, 
still  standing,  and  radiated  from  that  place,  visiting  the  Astor  House,  Taylor's 
Saloon  and  other  sights,  including  the  Ball  and  Black  store  and  the  old  post  office 
in  Nassau  Street.  I  was  accompanied  on  my  trip  to  the  metropolis  by  Simeon 
R.  Codman,  then  of  Pottersville,  N.  Y.,  who  weighed  410  pounds.  We  went  to 
Barnum's  Museum,  of  course,  and  saw  Hannah  Battersby,  who  was  known  as 
Barnum's  fat  woman.  My  companion  'obliged'  by  stepping  on  the  platform 
with  Hannah,  and  he  so  far  outfatted  her  as  to  receive  an  immediate  offer  from 
the  management.  During  our  stay  we  shopped  about  for  our  meals,  and  patron- 
ized among  other  places  Leggett's  in  Chatham  Street  and  Crook's  Hotel,  which 
was,  and  the  building  still  is,  in  the  same  locality.  The  bill  of  fare  was  excellent 
and  in  view  of  the  present-day  prices  *  it  seems  as  though  the  food  was  almost 
given  away.  In  the  basement  at  the  northeast  corner  of  Chambers  Street  and 
Broadway  was  an  oyster  saloon  kept  by  David  Decker,  as  I  recollect  it. 

"I  went  to  a  Broadway  theatre;  Laura  Keene  was  in  the  play  and  there  was  a 
georgeous  transformation  scene.  Greenwich  Street  was  quite  a  wholesale  district 
and  I  visited  and  purchased  goods  at  several  houses. 

"I  went  uptown,  saw  the  ruins  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  visited  some  impor- 
tant public  work  then  under  construction,  but  I  do  not  recall  what  it  was.  I  do 
recollect  that  I  went  on  a  horse-car,  probably  of  the  Third  Avenue  line,  up  to 
about  Forty-second  Street. 

"I  next  saw  New  York  in  September,  1862,  and  enjoyed  its  hospitality  in 
the  barracks  which  occupied  City  Hall  Park,  where  the  Union  soldiers  were 
housed  on  their  way  to  the  seat  of  war.  My  stay  was  brief  and  I  saw  nothing 
but  lower  Broadway,  packed  with  cheering  people,  as  we  marched  to  the  Battery 
and  took  water  transportation  to  the  South.  I  still  recollect  the  evil  smells  as  we 
passed  through  Kill  van  Kull  and  Staten  Island  Sound. 

"Returning  to  the  city  in  September,  1863, 1  stopped  at  Earle's  Hotel  in  Canal 
Street  (corner  of  Centre),  kept  by  the  father  of  'Affinity'  Earle,  and  a  good  hotel 
it  was.  My  most  interesting  experience  was,  as  the  guest  of  a  friend  whose  office 
was  at  110  Pearl  Street,  under  hotel  direction,  to  go  out  to  Broadway  and  down  to 
Pearl  and  then  follow  Pearl  to  find  him.  If  any  readers  have  not  done  this  stunt, 
let  them  try  it  and  they  will  know  how  I  felt.  After  having  arrived  I  was 
taken  uptown  to  his  residence  in  then  elegant  Thirty-fourth  Street  by  my  friend 

*  The  same  as  at  Putnam's,  given  elsewhere. — Editor. 


[72] 


COPYRIGHT,  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN. 


SH?*  Ntro  fork  ^nuptial,  18D4 


TWO  EVENTS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  HISTORY  OF  NEW  YORK,  IN  THE  EARLY 
DAYS  OF  THE  LAST  CENTURY.  STAND  OUT  WITH  UNUSUAL  DISTINCT- 
NESS. ONE  WAS  THE  FOUNDING  OFTHIS  HOSPITAL.  AND  THE  OTHER 
WAS  MR.  PINTARD  S  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY.  TO  BE  A  MEMBER  OF 
EITHER  ORGANIZATION  CONFERRED  THE  NECESSARY  SOCIAL  REC- 
OGNITION DEMANDED  OF  THE  TIMES.  AND  THE  SAME  CONDITION 
STILL  EXISTS.  THE  HOSPITAL  WAS  SITUATED  ON  THE  WEST  SIDE  OF 
BROADWAY.  BETWEEN  READE  AND  WORTH  STREETS.  AND  WAS  A 
FAMILIAR  SIGHT  AS  LATE  AS  1867. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR    FRANK  LORD. 


"The  Black  Crook" 


in  a  stage  that  traversed  Wall  Street  and  Broadway.  The  New  York  Central 
Railroad  station  was  then  in  Chambers  Street. 

It  was  not  until  May,  1867,  that  I  finally  landed  in  the  city  permanently.  I 
naturally  gravitated  to  Earle's  Hotel,  and  spent  my  first  evening  at  Niblo's  Gar- 
den when  'The  Black  Crook'  was  playing.  I  was  seeking  employment,  and 
when  my  prospective  employer  the  next  morning  asked  me  point  blank  where  I 
had  spent  the  evening,  I  was  at  a  loss  to  reply.  I  however  told  him  the  truth  and 
was  overjoyed  to  hear  him  say  it  was  the  finest  thing  he  ever  saw.  I  became  so 
much  habituated  to  'The  Black  Crook'  that  I  saw  it  whenever  it  was  in  town. 
Once,  seeing  in  the  Sun  about  twenty-five  years  ago  the  usual  'Black  Crook'  ad- 
vertisement, I  left  my  office  in  lower  Broadway,  took  a  street  car,  went  to  Niblo's, 
bought  my  ticket,  and  saw  the  curtain  rise  on  the  first  act  of  'Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin'!    The  'Crook'  was  at  the  Academy  of  Music,  and  that  was  my  last  effort. 

"I  heard  Charles  Dickens  (1867)  in  Stein  way  Hall,  and  Mme.  Parepa  Rosa 
about  the  same  time  in  Atlantic  Garden  in  the  Bowery,  and  I  knew  Samuel  Bene- 
dict, the  old-time  jeweler  at  2  Wall  Street.  He  was  the  father  of  Mr.  Read 
Benedict,  of  Benedict  Bros.,  now  corner  Cortlandt  Street. 

"In  the  days  following  the  war  the  basements  along  Broadway  above  and 
below  the  Metropolitan  Hotel  were  largely  occupied  by  'halls'  where  drinks  were 
dispensed  by  girls.  I  recollect  seeing  one  called  the  Dew  Drop  Inn,  and  there  were 
others  having  like  attractive  names." 


THE  OLD  POST  OFFICE  IN  NASSAU  STREET 

A  curious  character  in  this  establishment  was  "Old  Man  Moyer."  He  could 
decipher  an  address  in  almost  any  language  and  was  also  the  only  "Dead  Letter 
Office"  we  had  in  those  days.  He  opened  all  undeliverable  letters,  read  their  con- 
tents, and  was  frequently  the  means  of  solving  their  destination.  He  was  a  mar- 
vellous linguist  and  a  very  learned  man. 

There  was  also  a  huge  pie  counter  inside  the  rotunda,  much  patronized  by 
everybody,  at  which  the  famous  Washington  pie  was  greedily  devoured. 


[75] 


COST  OF  LIVING  IN  '63 


A  comparison  of  to-day's  prices  in  the  average  restaurant  with  the  Putnam 
House  in  '63  shows  that  we  have  real  ground  for  complaint  at  the  high  cost  of 
living.  The  following  is  an  old  bill-of-fare.  The  old  Putnam  is  still  standing  on 
Fourth  Avenue,  surrounded  by  the  new  skyscrapers  of  the  present  day,  but  must 
of  necessity  give  way  to  the  march  of  modern  improvements. 


PUTNAM  HOUSE 
357,  359  &  361  Fourth  Avenue 

Between  Twenty-siith  and  Twenty-seventh  Sts.    Opposite  the  Harlem  and  New  Haven  Depot 
LAWRENCE  R.  KERR,  Proprietor 


The  proprietor  of  this  popular  Lodging  House  and  Dining  Saloon  is  prepared  to  accommodate  citizens, 
travellers,  and  business  men,  with  Pleasant  Lodgings  and  Meals  at  All  Hours,  in  a  style  equal  to  any  other 
establishment  in  the  city.    He  would  call  attention  to  the  following  extensive  and  economical 

BILL  OF  FARE 
Breakfast  and  Tea 


Beef  Steak    7  cts. 

Pork  Steaks    7  " 

Veal  Cutlets    7  " 

Mutton  Chops    7  " 

Lamb  Chops    7  " 

Ham  and  Eggs    19  " 

Fried  or  Boiled  Ham    13  " 

Fried  Sausages    7  " 

Fried  Fish,  all  kinds    7  " 

Porter  House  Steak    25  " 

Tender  Loin  Steak    15  " 

Sirloin  Steak    13  " 


Broiled  Chicken    25  cts. 

Wheat  Cakes    5  " 

Buckwheat  Cakes    6  " 

Fried  Eggs,  each    3  " 

Boiled  Eggs,  each    3  " 

Poached  Eggs    13  " 

Milk  Toast    9  " 

Dry  Toast    6  " 

Fried  Potatoes    3  " 

Tea  and  Coffee,  each    3  " 

Coffee  and  Cakes    6  " 

Bread  and  Milk    9  " 


Dinner 

Roast    Beef,    Veal,    Lamb,    Pork;  Roast    Turkey,    Goose,    Duck  and 

Corned    Beef,    Pork;    Pork    and  Chicken,  each    15  cts. 

Beans  and  Meat  Pie,  each   7  cts.  Chicken  Pie  or  Fricassee   13  " 

Lamb  Chops    13   "  Beef  Soup    6  " 

To  Order 

Sirloin  Steak    13  cts.  Veal  Cutlet    13  cts. 

Tender  Loin  Steak    15    "  Raw  Oysters    13  " 

Porter  House  Steak    25    "  Fried  Oysters    13  " 

Broiled  Chicken    25   "  Pickled  Oysters    13  " 

Dessert 

Plum  Pudding    6  cts. 

Plum  Pie    6  " 

Pies  and  Puddings,  all  kinds   6  " 

Lodgings,  25  cents  per  night.  Open  at  AU  Hours. 


[76] 


'Bttixmsifxn  jRnui"  in  its  Jhtlntg  Says 


BOWLING  GREEN.  THE  MOST  FASHIONABLE  ROW  OF  HOUSES  IN  NEW 
YORK  IN  1  830.  SMOKE  FROM  THE  GREAT  FIRE  OF  1835  RUINED  THE 
DRAPERIES  AND  TARNISHED  THE  SILVER.  DAVID  AUSTIN  LIVED 
HERE  IN  '35.  LATER.  THE  FOLLOWING  FAMILIES  OCCUPIED  THE 
ROW-FROM  LEFT  TO  RIGHT:  PETER  REMSEN.  FERDINAND  SUYDAM. 
JOHN  Gl  HON.  COMMODORE  VANDERBILT.  ELISHA  R1GGS  AND 
STEPHEN  WHITNEY.  THEN  IT  BECAME  "STEAMSHIP  ROW.  '  IT  IS  NOW 
SITE  OF  THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE.  THIS  STREET  MARKS  THE  NORTHERN 
BOUNDARY  OF  OLD  FORT  AMSTERDAM.  THE  SOUTHERN  PART  ENDING 
AT  WHITEHALL  STREET.  WHICH  WAS  THE  SHORE  LINE  AT  THAT 
TIME  ( 1  664). 

FROM    THE    COLLECTION    OF    MISS    AMY    TOWNS  E  NO. 


COST  OF  LIVING  IN  '63 


A  companson  of  to-day's  prices  in  the  average  restaurant  with  the  Putnam 
House  in  G8  shows  that  we  have  real  ground  for  .omplaint  at  the  high  cost  of 
living.  The  following  is  an  old  bill-of-fare.  Thr  .id  Putnam  is  still  standing  on 
Fourth  Avenue,  surrounded  by  the  new  skyscraper,  of  the  present  day,  but  must 
of  necessity  give  way  to  the  march  of  modern  in 4.  rnents. 


PUTNAM  HOUSE 
357,  359  &  361  Fourth  Aveou 

Between  Twenty-iiith  and  Twenty- •eveoth  St».    Uppotitc  the  H 
LAWRENCB  R.  KERR.  Proprietor 

The  proprietor  of  this  popular  Lodging  House  and  Dining  Sa! 
travellers,  and  business  men,  with  Pleasant  Lodgings  and  Meal*  at  I 
establishment  in  the  city.    He  would  call  attention  to  the  following 

BILL  OF  FARE 
Breakfast  and  Tea 

Beef  Steak                                       7  cts.  Broiled  < 

Pork  Steaks                                       7   «  wheat  „ 

Veal  Cutlets                                      7    «  BuckwK 

Mutton  Chops                                     7    «  Frifd  T< 

Lamb  Chops                                      7    «  Bojled  ! 

Ham  and  Eggs                                19   «  Poached 

Fried  or  Boiled  Ham                       13   «  jflllk  j0;l 

Fried  Sausages                                 7   ««  jjjy  Xuaj 

Fried  Fish,  all  kinds                        7   ■      *  Fried  Po 

Porter  House  Steak                          25    ■  Tea  and 

Tender  Loin  Steak                            15   «  Coffee  M 

Sirloin  Steak                                     13   «  Bread  n-- 

Dim  k  kh 

Roast    Beef,    Veal,    Lamb,    Pork;  Roast    j  | 

Corned    Beef,    Pork;    Pork    and  Chick,- 

Beans  and  Meat  Pie,  each              7  cts.  Chicken  I 

Lamb  Chops                                    13   «  jjeef  n  Mi, 

To  0*um 

H{iiM  timing  atj  ni  "mniS  triTla«uWWP 

wan  MiBaaueHHo.vyte^^^oiHZA^  TaoM  sht  ,vig3ifla<Bi'iiJwoa  ' 

3HT  d3|J  jY$£88  IfjfflfSJlJa  TA3A3  3HT  MOflV  3>i6'm'2  gQZB,[  M I  XflOY 

a3vu  n its u a  aivAa   .H3^jl4 ' 3fiT' 03H2iKflAT' crrfA  E3in3qAfla         Pickled  Oj 

3HT  dSISUODO  83IJIMA3   3MIW0JJ03   3 HT  .H3TAJ     2£'   Ml  3H3H 
,MAaYU8aMAHiafl33./13aM3S1  flSTSI  :TH3lfl  OT  T33J  M0H3-W0S1  ■  it  r 
aHA     233IH    AH2IJ3    .TJIBHSaklAV     3HOflOMMOp     W0HI3  HHOl 

W0K2ITI    '   WOfl  SIH8MA3T2"  3MAD38  Tl  H3H«13T8  

HH3HTHOH  3 HT  2XHAM  T33HT3  2IHT    Se&BH'MoWuD  3HT  30  3T.ie  

3KICW3  THAS  Mfl3HTU0a  3HT  .MAaH3T8M*  JftpSilWOpO^.ftApHUOfll  \  :  , f  . 
TAHT  TA   3HIJ   3AOH8   3HT   2AW  H3IHW.T33HT2  JJAH3TIHW  TA 

//fdgings,  25  cents  per  night.    ,(»»8t)  Hn 

aWlZMWOT  VMA   22IM   TO   H0IT33  J  JOO  3MT  HOfll 

[76] 


>mI  New  Haven  Depot 


ite  citizens, 
any  other 


  «5  cts. 

  5  " 

»    «  ■ 

  S  ■ 

-    S  ■ 

  IS  ■ 

  9  ■ 

  6  ■ 

«.#..   S  • 

Mb    3  " 

•    6  ■ 

  9  " 

ioose,    Duck  and 

if   15  cts. 

ricassee   13  ■ 

  6  14 


■ .  13  cts. 
..  IS  ■ 
..13  ■ 
. .  13  " 


Open  at  All  Hours. 


SITE  OF  THE  NEW  MUNICIPAL  BUILDING 
CIVIC  CENTRE  AND  SURROUNDINGS,  IN  THE  '60s  AND  BEFORE 

The  wonderful  changes  projected  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  City  Hall  lend 
an  additional  interest  to  the  following  account  of  that  neighborhood  fifty  years  ago. 
It  is  certainly  a  remarkable  transformation. 

"Steel  columns  now  sprout  heavenward  where  in  the  '40s  the  Mechanics'  In- 
stitute School  stood,  near  Chambers  Street  and  Third  Avenue.  Many  can  call 
to  mind  the  old  building  with  the  boys  on  the  top  floor,  the  girls  on  the  second, 
Mr.  J.  B.  Snook,  the  architect  of  the  Grand  Central  Depot,  1873,  on  the  first,  and 
the  woman  who  sold  penny  pies  in  the  basement.  Benjamin  Mason  was  the 
principal,  with  Tracy  and  Metcalf,  assistants.  The  system  of  education  was 
simple;  the  pupils  were  well  grounded  in  the  three  Rs,  and  the  only  frill  was  the 
singing  lesson  once  a  week,  when  Professor  Andrews  came  in  to  train,  with  violin 
and  voice,  the  students  for  the  annual  exhibition  at  the  Broadway  Tabernacle. 
While  this  school  closed  on  Christmas,  it  was  no  festival  day;  no  trees,  no  presents, 
and  Santa  Claus  came  only  on  New  Year's  Eve.  Some  must  be  still  living  who  can 
recollect  Dick  Ware,  Abe  and  Frank  Bassford,  George  Long,  Dan  Pentz,  Gilbert 
Wright,  the  Earle  boys,  Henry  and  Ed  Heath,  and  Mayor  Woodhull's  son. 
Mayor  Woodhull  lived  in  Beekman  Street,  north  side,  between  Park  Row  and 
William  Street.  A  few  doors  east  was  a  private  school.  Opposite  it  now  stands 
a  police  station.  The  Mayor's  son  was  killed  by  falling  from  the  roof  of  their  house 
while  flying  a  kite. 

"On  the  corner  of  Cliff  Street  was  St.  George's  Church,  whose  clock  supplied 
time  for  the  neighborhood.  Dr.  Spring's  Brick  Church  was  then  at  the  triangle, 
Park  Row,  Beekman  and  Nassau  Streets.  There  was  no  post  office  then,  at  the 
south  end  of  the  park,  but  a  large  iron  gate.  On  the  Fourth  of  July  the  militia 
paraded;  the  park  was  filled  with  booths,  and  at  night  there  were  fireworks  set  off 
in  front  of  the  City  Hall.  In  those  days  there  was  an  iron  fence  around  the  park, 
and  at  a  point  nearly  opposite  Frankfort  Street  was  a  triangle,  each  leg  about 
two  feet,  shut  out  of  the  park  by  the  fence.  It  was  understood  that  it  was  for 
lack  of  title.   In  war  times  there  was  an  encampment  of  Union  soldiers  in  the  park. 

"About  1865  there  was  at  Battery  Park  an  encampment  of  Confederate 
soldiers,  unkempt  and  ragged,  who  sold  souvenirs  to  their  curious,  staring  visitors 
— brass  army  buttons  with  the  palmetto  and  the  letters  'S.  C  (South  Carolina). 
In  those  days  not  only  the  City  Hall  fence  but  the  fence  around  St.  Paul's  church- 
yard was  hung  with  sheets  of  songs,  martial  in  spirit.  Among  them  were  'John 
Brown's  Body,'  'Ellsworth's  Avengers,'  'Marching  Along,'  'Just  Before  the 
Battle,  Mother,'  'Ever  of  Thee,'  'Nellie  Gray,'  'Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp,  the 
Boys  are  Marching,'  'Year  of  Jubilee,'  etc.  On  lower  Broadway  was  an  old 
jewelry  store,  known  as  Link's,  where,  during  the  war,  a  colored  boy  was  shel- 


[79] 


Castle  Garden  Reached  by  Bridge 


tered,  as  riots  frequently  occurred  nearby.  Afterward,  Mr.  Link  opened  a  jewelry 
store  where  John  Daniell's  now  stands  at  Broadway  and  Eighth  Street. 

"The  hotels  below  Chambers  Street  were  American,  corner  of  Park  Place, 
afterward  burned  with  loss  of  life;  Astor,  Franklin,  Globe,  City,  etc.,  all  on  Broad- 
way. Retail  stores  were  on  Maiden  Lane ;  the  wholesale  district  east  of  Broadway 
from  Pine  Street.  At  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Beaver  Street  was  the  large 
boarding  house  of  the  Misses  Mix  and  Trip.  Whitehall  Street  and  State  Street 
were  residential.  Where  the  Custom  House  now  is  lived  some  of  the  wealthiest 
citizens. 

"The  Harlem  Railroad  had  its  headquarters  at  Tryon  Row,  where  the  Brook- 
lyn Bridge  entrance  now  is.  A  small  room  where  the  Municipal  Building  now  is 
being  erected  was  its  depot,  ticket  office  and  waiting  room.  The  cars  stood  out 
in  the  street.  When  it  was  time  for  a  train  to  start,  the  cars  were  drawn  by  horses 
up  to  Fourth  Avenue,  where  the  locomotive  was  attached.  The  train  then  went 
through  the  tunnel  at  Thirty-fourth  Street.  The  roundhouse  was  where  the  Seven- 
ty-first Regiment  Armory  now  is.  From  Twenty-first  Street  to  Yorkville,  Eighty- 
sixth  Street,  was  a  country  road,  rail  fences,  a  few  houses,  all  frame  and  of  no  pre- 
tension. 

"To  reach  Castle  Garden  in  those  days  you  passed  over  a  bridge.  Grisi  and 
Mario  sang  'Norma'  there.  The  old  Winter  Garden  was  built  in  the  late  '50s. 
The  Lafarge  House,  covering  the  present  Broadway  Central,  was  built,  and  through 
it  was  the  entrance  to  Tripler  Hall,  where  Jenny  Lind  sang  after  singing  at  Castle 
Garden  under  Barnum's  direction.  The  hotel  and  hall  were  magnificent  for  those 
days.  In  this  hotel  Jim  Fisk  was  murdered.  On  the  site  of  Tripler  Hall  was 
built  the  finest  theatre  New  York  had  yet  seen.  It  was  intended  for  Laura  Keene, 
but  when  finished  it  was  found  that  W.  E.  Burton  had  the  lease.  A  theatre  was 
then  built  for  Laura  Keene  on  the  other  side  of  Broadway,  where  she  coined  money. 
Burton  did  not  make  a  success,  the  sympathy  of  the  public  being  with  Miss  Keene. 
She  had  a  fine  company:  Joe  Jefferson,  Sothern,  Agnes  Robinson,  Dion  Bouci- 
cault  and  others.  There  was  produced  the  'American  Cousin,'  which  had  such  a 
remarkable  run.  Julian's  Band  came  over  in  the  early  '50s  and  gave  its  first  per- 
formance at  Castle  Garden.  There  he  heard  the  katydids,  which  suggested  his 
composing  the  polka  by  that  name. 

"Mr.  Hart  was  principal  of  Public  School  3  in  the  early  '40s.  Old  Man  Pat- 
terson with  his  Scotch  dialect  followed  Hart.  Schuyler  Colfax  was  one  of  the  pupils 
about  that  time;  so  was  George  Melville,  late  an  admiral  in  the  United  States  navy. 
Among  others  were  Bill  Poole,  Charley  Lozier,  and  many  other  representative 
men.  Southerland  used  to  correspond  with  his  schoolmates  when  he  was  a  very  old 
man.  Who  about  that  time  does  not  remember  also  Ben  Whitney,  the  orator 
of  the  school? 

"Houston  Street  had  one  fine  school,  No.  13.  Who  remembers  one  principal, 
Miss  Anna  Hazard,  now  long  gone  ?  The  fine  old  horse-chestnut  tree  standing  in 
front  of  172  East  Houston  Street  was  a  long-remembered  landmark.  Old  resi- 
dents will  recall  the  old  German  shoemaker  named  Stroebele  who  always  hung  his 


[80] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C  BROWN 


Julian  £trrrt  in  11140 


AN  EXTREMELY  INTERESTING  VIEW  OF  FULTON  STREET.  SHOWING 
THE  HERALD  BUILDING  ON  THE  CORNER  OF  NASSAU.  AND  THE 
FIRST  OFFICES  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  SUN.  UNDER  MOSES  Y  BEACH 
IN  ONE  OF  THE  BUILDINGS  OPPOSITE.  KNOX  THE  HATTER  OPENED 
HIS  FIRST  SHOP  AND  KEPT  A  MUSEUM  OF  HATS  MADE  BY  HIM. 
WORN  BY  FAMOUS  MEN  SUCH  AS  WEBSTER.  CLAY.  LINCOLN.  GRANT. 
SHERMAN.  ETC. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR    ROBERT  GOELET. 


Tom  Thumb,  the  Famous  Dwarf 


shoes  out  on  wooden  hangers.  He  lived  opposite  Lincoln  Hall,  where  Eberle,  in 
the  early  '70s,  was  proprietor.  There  was  Cheshire  of  East  Houston  Street,  dealer 
in  twines ;  old  man  Boehnert,  sewing  machines ;  Oechs,  Saxony  worsteds ;  old  Mar- 
ket's confectionery,  corner  of  the  Bowery  and  Great  Jones  Street,  all  now  pleasant 
recollections.  The  bank  at  Bowery  and  Houston  Street  was  crowded  with  people 
waiting  to  see  the  first  Third  Avenue  elevated  train  go  by.  There  was  a  school 
at  Second  Street  and  Avenue  A,  called  the  St.  Nicholas  Academy.  An  old  pump 
stood  in  those  days  on  First  Avenue,  where  any  passerby  might  stop  and  get  a  cool 
drink.  The  houses  of  that  neighborhood  were  equipped  with  old-fashioned  knock- 
ers. Dr.  Charles  Monnell  had  a  drug  store  at  the  corner  of  First  Avenue  and  Hou- 
ston Street,  which  is  still  standing.  At  Orchard  and  Houston  Street  an  honest 
grocer,  Schmidt,  sold  nearly  everything  by  weight — onions,  potatoes,  apples,  etc. 
At  Houston  near  the  Bowery,  where  St.  Augustine's  Church  now  stands,  was  an 
old  cemetery,  surrounded  by  a  stone  wall.  Edward  Ridley's  Sons'  great  store  at 
Grand  and  Allen  Streets  was  the  Saturday  night  promenade  for  ladies  shop- 
ping. The  Christmas  crowds  of  to-day,  it  is  claimed,  are  the  nearest  comparisons. 
In  those  days  Second  Avenue  was  shaded  on  both  sides  by  huge  trees,  long  since 
cut  down. 

"One  of  the  old  residents  recounts  with  joyful  recollection  going  to  the  Concert 
Hall,  under  the  care  and  guidance  of  Artemus  Ward,  to  see  Maggie  Mitchell  in 
'Fanchon.'  All  he  remembered  afterward  of  the  play  was  the  chicken  flying  in. 
Ward  regaled  his  small  companion  with  a  lunch  at  one  of  the  many  basement  res- 
taurants like  Crook  and  Duff's  about  Nassau  and  Fulton  Streets,  frequented  by 
newspaper  men  and  artists.  At  that  time  the  present  building  on  the  southwest 
corner  of  Fulton  Street  at  Broadway  was  a  high  and  very  fine  office  building,  with- 
out the  present  mansard  roof,  and,  of  course,  with  no  elevators.  My  first  visits  to 
the  new  Central  Park,  about  1860,  were  made  in  the  little  green  cars;  the  bodies 
turned  on  the  trucks  when  the  end  of  the  route  was  reached  at  Broadway  and  after 
wearing  ship  they  started  uptown.  On  the  northwest  corner  of  Broadway  and 
Canal  Street  was  the  San  Francisco  cigar  store,  and  as  a  small  boy  just  about  to 
read  I  never  could  remember  whether  it  was  San  Francisco  or  Fran  Sancisco.  One 
of  the  great  events  of  my  boyhood  was  the  marriage  in  St.  Paul's  Church  of  the 
dwarfs  Tom  Thumb  and  Lavinia  Warren,  engineered  by  that  prince  of  advertisers, 
P.  T.  Barnum. 

"What  a  sight  on  South  Street  were  the  majestic  figureheads  and  massive  bow- 
sprits of  great  sailing  vessels  overhanging  the  roadways,  and  the  little  jibbooms 
nearly  in  the  windows  of  the  sail  lofts  and  shipping  offices  on  the  west  side  of  the 
street.  From  the  yards  hung  big  canvas  signs  announcing  the  sailing,  while  the 
street  was  placarded  with  big  posters  of  the  Sutton  and  other  lines.  The  sights, 
sounds  and  even  the  smells  of  that  part  of  the  town  were  alluring  to  the  boys  of 
the  day,  delightful  in  their  suggestion  of  the  sea  and  the  unknown  lands  beyond  it. 
The  little  Old  New  York  that  ended  with  Twenty-third  Street  was  a  pleasant  town, 
and  many  of  the  old  timers  would  like  to  revisit  it." 


[83] 


NEW  YORK  A  MILITARY  GAMP 


CONFEDERATE  PRISONERS  AT  THE  BATTERY 

Fairs,  etc.,  for  the  Benefit  of  Soldiers'  Widows — Street  Scenes  in  the  Days  of 

the  Civil  War 

During  the  dark  days  of  the  Civil  War,  New  York  was  a  busy  city.  Troops 
from  all  over  the  country  gathered  here  to  entrain  for  the  front.  The  City  Hall 
Park  was  one  vast  encampment  for  Union  soldiers.  Prisoners  from  the  South 
were  confined  in  Battery  Park  till  exchanged  or  otherwise  disposed  of.  Regiments 
were  continually  coming  or  going,  sanitary  fairs  were  constantly  being  held,  and 
other  efforts  made  to  alleviate  the  condition  of  the  widows  and  children  of  the 
soldiers.  The  following  sketch  is  a  good  pen  picture  of  those  trying  days: 

"The  soldiers'  barracks  were  standing  in  the  Battery,  which  was  then  enclosed 
in  a  tall  iron  spiked  fence  with  gate  openings.  From  State  Street  and  Whitehall 
to  the  Staten  Island  Ferry  all  kinds  of  refreshments  were  sold  from  stands  backed 
up  against  the  fence  and  owned  mostly  by  old  Irish  women,  who  smoked  their 
dudeens  in  perfect  composure  before  the  passing  crowds.  The  Confederate  pris- 
oners were  a  feature  that  impressed  itself  upon  one's  memory.  They  were  there 
in  '65  in  great  numbers,  probably  on  their  way  South.  The  barracks  were  hung 
in  mourning  after  Lincoln  was  shot,  and  his  dead  body  in  its  funeral  carriage 
passed  along  Battery  Place  around  the  Bowling  Green  and  up  Broadway  to  the 
City  Hall,  where  it  lay  in  state. 

"The  Battery  then  had  a  little  beach  that  sloped  gently  into  the  water.  About 
a  hundred  feet  or  more  beyond  the  beach  was  a  ledge  of  rocks,  where  the  granite 
wall  now  stands.  It  has  all  been  filled  in  since  except  the  basin  where  the  row- 
boats  still  are.  There  were  a  number  of  trees  in  the  park,  of  which  the  weeping 
willows  stand  out  conspicuous  in  memory.  There  were  baseball  grounds  and  a  crack 
team,  known  as  the  Mohawks.  A  fellow  named  Taaffe  was  their  pitcher.  Old 
Bob  Peach  was  then  the  crack  rower  of  the  world.  He  beat  everything  in  sight 
and  out  of  sight.  He  opened  oysters  then,  as  he  does  now,  and  at  intervals 
grappled  for  the  drowned. 

"Do  you  recall  the  primary  school  on  Stone  Street  just  east  of  Whitehall 
Street?  A  Mr.  Duffy,  a  tall,  lank  man,  with  a  long,  red  beard,  was  principal. 
P.  G.  Duffy  taught  the  highest  class. 

"At  the  old  Post  Office  building  at  Cedar  and  Nassau  Streets  there  was  a  tower 
from  which  a  bell  rang  fire  alarms,  indicating  by  the  number  of  its  strokes  the  loca- 
tion of  the  fire.  The  children  in  winter  used  to  coast  down  Exchange  Place  from 
Broadway  to  Broad  Street  at  the  peril  of  their  lives.  The  ice  floes  used  to  pack 
so  tight  in  the  East  River  that  people  walked  across  in  safety  to  Brooklyn.  Gangs 


[84] 


THE  ABOVE  SHOWS  THE  EXERCISES  ATTENDING  THE  DEDICATION 
OF  THE  MONUMENT  TO  WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH  IN  MADISON 
SQUARE.  HE  WON  FAME  IN  THE  WAR  WITH  MEXICO.  THE  PICTURE 
IS  INTERESTING  AS  SHOWING  TYPES  OF  CITIZENS.  SOLDIERY.  LOCAL 
BANDS  AND  REGULAR  TROOPS 

IT  IS  ALSO  VALUABLE  AS  SHOWING  THE  TYPE  OF  PRIVATE  RESI- 
DENCES WHICH  THEN  LINED  THE  SQUARE  THE  PRESENT  SITE 
OF  THE  METROPOLITAN  TOWER  IS  SHOWN  AT  THE  RIGHT  FACING 
YOU.  AND  THE  LEFT  IS  26th  STREET  THE  BLANK  SPACE  BEHIND 
THE  MONUMENT  WAS  THE  LOW-LYING  BUILDINGS  OF  THE  HARLEM 
RAILROAD  DEPOT— NOW  MADISON  SQUARE  GARDEN 
FROM  A  RARE  OLD  LITHOGRAPH  ISSUED  TO  COMMEMORATE  THE 
EVENT 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR  J  CLARENCE  DAVIES 


1 


Explosion  of  the  "Westfield" 


of  Italians  with  picks  and  axes  were  employed  to  chop  solid  blocks  of  dirty  ice  out 
of  Broadway  below  Fulton  Street  at  night. 

"The  city  was  wide  open  then.  Chatham  Street  was  an  abomination;  so  was 
lower  Greenwich  Street.  Policy  shops  were  all  over  the  First  Ward;  even  the 
children  knew  of  them  and  what  they  meant.  Politics  was  red  hot.  Bloodshed,  even 
murder,  was  not  of  uncommon  occurrence.  The  city,  comparatively,  is  now  a  gar- 
den of  the  Lord. 

"About  that  time  two  boys  distinguished  themselves  at  the  explosion  of  the 
Westfield,  a  Staten  Island  ferryboat,  that  blew  up  one  Sunday  in  J uly  as  it  was 
about  to  leave  the  slip.  They  were  wharf  rats  and  were  named  Rat  Conners  and 
Red  Jack  Barry.  They  saved  a  number  of  lives,  and  the  newspapers  of  the  day 
were  full  of  their  praise.  Another  Barry  of  the  old  First  Ward  and  a  contem- 
porary of  Red  Jack  has  fared  better  than  his  namesake.  He  is  now  a  Major-Gen- 
eral  of  the  United  States  Army  and  in  charge  of  West  Point. 

"Maybe  some  of  the  old  New  Yorkers  will  remember  Lamartine  Place,  now 
West  Twenty-ninth  Street.  A  gentleman  who  lived  at  21  Lamartine  Place  was 
pointed  out  in  the  draft  riots  as  Horace  Greeley,  and  the  rioters  very  nearly  killed 
him  before  the  mistake  was  discovered.  A  copy  of  the  Sun,  issued  Thursday, 
July  16,  1863,  contains  a  brief  account  of  this  happening.  I  wonder  what  the  read- 
ers of  the  Sun  to-day  would  say  if  the  paper  appeared  with  such  headlines  as 
this  one  does,  as  'Third  Day  of  Mob  Rule,'  'More  Murder  and  Destruction,' 
'Negro  Killed  and  Hung  Up,'  'Houses  Robbed  and  Burned,'  etc." 

THE  ••HERALD'S"  HOAX  AND  THE  MOON  HOAX 

About  thirty  years  ago  all  New  York  was  horrified  by  a  circumstantial  account 
of  an  escape  by  wild  beasts  in  Central  Park.  The  front  page  of  the  Herald,  with 
flaring  headlines  describing  the  onslaught  of  the  infuriated  beasts  upon  unprotected 
citizens,  created  the  most  intense  excitement.  Business  men  sent  hurried  messenger 
boys  with  instructions  for  none  of  the  family  to  leave  the  house.  Schools  were  de- 
serted, and  for  several  hours  the  city  was  in  a  veritable  panic. 

When  the  article  was  read  to  the  end  it  was  discovered  to  be  nothing  but  a  fig- 
ment of  imagination.  One  of  the  reporters  had  woven  the  story  out  of  whole  cloth, 
but  not  until  the  last  paragraph  was  the  trick  disclosed. 

Another  similar  hoax  some  years  before,  in  which  the  moon  was  visited,  created 
equal  excitement.   We  quote  from  the  latter  the  following: 

Up  Fulton  Street  at  the  corner  of  Nassau  Street  was  the  publishing  office  of  the  Sun. 
Moses  Y.  Beach,  the  publisher,  had  just  issued  a  wonderful  story  about  the  moon,  written  by 
a  Mr.  Locke.  The  story  stated  that  Sir  John  Herschel  had,  by  means  of  his  large  telescope  at 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  brought  the  moon  to  within  thirty  miles  of  the  earth,  and  he  could  see 
plainly  enough  what  the  inhabitants  were  busy  about  and  how  their  buildings  were  constructed. 
The  story  was  so  admirably  written  that  it  deceived  thousands  of  people,  and  Cyrus  W.  Field, 
of  ocean  cable  fame,  made  a  bet  against  its  truth  of  a  fine  lunch  at  the  old  Rainbow  Hotel 
(burned  down  forty  years  ago). 


[87] 


SOCIAL  CENTRES  OF  YESTERDAY 

Memories  of  Once  Fashionable  Quarters 

The  Battery,  State  Street,  Bowling  Green,  Wall  Street,  Hanover  Square,  Queen 
Street,  Park  Place,  St.  John's  Park,  Bond  Street,  St. 
Mark's  Place,  Washington  Square 

THE  BATTERY  AND  STATE  STREET,  BOWLING  GREEN 

AND  BROADWAY 

After  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War  and  the  troublous  years  which  fol- 
lowed the  readjustment  to  the  new  order  of  things,  the  social  world  was  more  or 
less  unsettled.  Gradually  order  came  out  of  chaos  and  the  leading  families  settled 
in  lower  Broadway  and  State  Street,  but  soon  business  compelled  removal  farther 
north. 

Events  moved  so  rapidly  in  old  New  York  that  society  was  sadly  harassed  to  find  a 
location  which  promised  any  degree  of  permanency.  Although  the  Battery  was  then  and  still 
is  to-day  one  of  the  most  charming  sections  of  the  city,  its  popularity  as  a  residential  neigh- 
borhood was  short-lived.  After  the  old  Fort  was  dismantled  and  the  new  administration  came 
into  power,  they  erected  the  Government  House  on  its  site  when  the  city  was  for  a  brief  period 
the  capital  of  the  United  States.  General  Washington  gave  all  his  state  functions  in  the  new 
structure,  himself  residing  in  the  Kennedy  House  at  No.  1  Broadway.  Society  then  clustered 
around  lower  Broadway  facing  Bowling  Green  and  overflowing  into  Wall  Street,  Hanover 
Square,  Pearl  and  Pine  Streets.  With  the  removal  of  the  seat  of  Government  to  Philadelphia 
and  subsequently  to  Washington,  society  moved  a  little  farther  north,  stopping  for  a  brief 
period  at  Greenwich  Street,  which  for  a  time  rejoiced  in  the  sobriquet  of  Millionaires'  Row. 
Business,  however,  began  its  relentless  march  and  soon  the  social  life  moved  up  to  College 
Place.  Broadway  up  to  Warren  Street  was  also  a  delightful  residential  section.  Sunday 
mornings  in  those  days  were  certainly  ideal.  There  were,  perhaps,  a  dozen  churches  within 
easy  walking  distance  of  College  Place:  Trinity  at  the  head  of  Wall  Street,  St.  Paul's  at 
Vesey  Street,  Dr.  Mason's  in  Murray  Street — the  doctor  being  one  of  the  most  popular  divines 
of  the  day — the  Brick  Presbyterian  just  across  the  Park,  St.  George's  Chapel  farther  down 
on  Beekman  Street,  the  Methodist  Church  in  John  Street,  the  North  Church  on  Fulton  Street, 
the  Middle  Dutch  on  Nassau  and  the  French  Church  on  Garden  Street. 

At  the  tolling  of  the  bells,  our  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  came  from  all  the  neigh- 
boring streets  and  Broadway,  the  Park  and  adjacent  thoroughfares  taking  on  an  air  of  spright- 
liness  and  vivacity  during  churchgoing  hours  that  was  certainly  unlike  anything  we  know  of 
to-day.  The  men,  in  tall  beaver  hats,  tight  trousers,  high  rolling  stocks,  varicolored  waist- 
coats and  carrying  stout  canes,  made  a  picturesque  accompaniment  to  the  wide-spreading  crino- 
lines, snow-white  pantalettes,  huge  bonnets  and  brightly  colored  parasols  of  their  wives  and 
their  cousins  and  their  aunts.  Service  over,  they  repaired  to  their  homes,  sometimes  taking  an 
afternoon  stroll  into  the  woods  and  amid  the  streams  that  began  where  Canal  Street  is  now. 


[88] 


COPYRIGHT,  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN 


iFnnrtli  Anrmtr  anil  22nb  ^trrrt 


ST.  PAULS  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH.  WHICH  FORMERLY 
STOOD  ON  THE  CORNER  OF  FOURTH  AVENUE  AND  22nd  STREET. 
NOW  OCCUPIED  BY  THE  UNITED  CHARITIES  BUILDING.  A  VERY 
RARE  AND  INTERESTING  LITHOGRAPH.  OF  WHICH  ONLY  TWO  COPIES 
ARE  KNOWN  TO  EXIST-THE  OTHER  OWNED  BY  MR  ROBERT  GOELET 
DR.  McCHESNEY  WAS  THE  PREACHER  AT  THE  TIME  THIS  VIEW  WAS 
MADE.  AND  IS  AFFECTIONATELY  REMEMBERED  BY  MANY  OLD 
FAMILIES 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR   J  CLARENCE  DAVIES 


A  Delightful  Locality 


PARK  PLAGE 

Park  Place,  before  its  extension,  was  rightly  styled  a  "place,"  for  it  was  shut 
off  on  each  end  by  the  Park  on  the  east  and  by  the  college  grounds  on  the  west. 
The  grounds  were  situated  on  the  west  side  of  Church  Street ;  the  buildings  were  of 
brick,  stuccoed,  fronting  south,  with  rear  yards  extending  to  Murray  Street;  the 
chapel,  library  and  lecture  rooms,  etc.,  were  in  the  centre,  the  projecting  wings  being 
the  residence  of  the  president  and  professors;  and  in  the  front  was  an  extended 
open  space,  with  fine  old  trees,  mostly  sycamore.  The  removal  of  the  building  was 
effected  in  1857,  two  or  three  years  after  the  extension  of  the  street. 

(From  an  old  Scrap  Book  in  possession  of  Mr.  22.  Fulton  Cutting) 

I  propose  now  to  make  a  start  from  these  grounds  and  to  take  a  stroll  through  this  old 
place,  beginning  on  the  north  side  of  Church  Street.  The  first  building  was  at  one  time  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Vanbrugh  Livingston.  To  him  succeeded  Col.  Trumbull,  the  well-known 
painter  of  portraits  and  historic  subjects.  In  the  year  1828  Mr.  Gould  Hoyt  was  the  occu- 
pant. Of  Mr.  Hoyt's  family  the  only  surviving  member  is  his  eldest  son  Henry,  who  married 
the  daughter  of  Judge  Wm.  A.  Duer,  once  president  of  the  college.  There  were  besides  his 
two  sons,  Lydig,  who  married  Miss  Livingston,  and  Gould,  who  married  the  daughter  of  Gen. 
Winfield  Scott ;  and  two  daughters,  Mrs.  William  Redmond  and  Mrs.  Sears,  of  Boston. 

At  the  adjoining  house,  No.  25,  resided  Mr.  Joshua  Waddington,  who,  after  a  long  resi- 
dence, retired  to  the  country.  It  was  then  occupied  by  Mr.  L.  P.  de  Luze,  who  married  a 
daughter  of  Thomas  Ludlow  Ogden,  and  it  afterwards  came  into  the  possession  of  the 
eminent  surgeon,  Dr.  Valentine  Mott.  Mr.  Waddington  was  an  Englishman  and  was 
married  to  a  sister  of  Thomas  Ludlow  Ogden  and  Abraham  Ogden.  He  was  engaged  in 
mercantile  pursuits,  and  was  associated  with  Alexander  Hamilton  and  other  prominent 
citizens  in  the  establishment  and  direction  of  the  Bank  of  New  York,  the  first  of  our  bank- 
ing corporations.  The  late  W.  D.  Waddington  was  his  only  son.  His  daughter,  Mrs.  Van 
Rensselaer,  the  widow  of  Jeremiah  Van  Rensselaer,  M.D.,  and  Mrs.  S.  Cornell  Ogden,  are 
now  living. 

In  the  adjoining  house  lived  Alderman  Augustus  Lawrence  with  his  daughters;  next, 
Mr.  Peter  Schermerhorn.  I  can  recall  his  four  sons:  Jones,  who  married  the  daughter 
of  Philip  Hone,  once  Mayor  of  New  York;  Augustus,  married  to  Miss  Cooper;  Edmund 
H,  and  Wm.  C.  Schermerhorn,  married  to  Miss  Cottinet.  And  here  I  must  pause  to  offer 
a  passing  tribute  to  the  memory  of  Augustus  Schermerhorn.  He  was  my  classmate  in 
Columbia  College,  and  looking  through  the  vista  of  years,  I  see  in  him  the  purest  and  most 
refined  youth  I  have  ever  encountered.  The  qualities  which  win  respect  and  affection  at  col- 
lege attracted  throughout  his  life,  cut  too  short,  all  who  were  brought  within  his  influence. 
Two  children  survive  him ;  one,  Augustus,  unmarried,  and  a  daughter,  married  to  Mr.  Tilden 
Auchmuty. 

Beyond,  though  perhaps  not  in  succession,  and  at  different  periods,  there  lived  Mr. 
Garret  Abell,  Mr.  Thomas  Suffern,  Mr.  Augustus  Lawrence,  Jr.,  Mr.  Nehemiah  Rogers,  Mr. 
Roosevelt,  Mr.  Champlin  and  Mr.  Whitehouse,  an  Englishman,  father  of  Henry,  who  be- 
came the  Bishop  of  Illinois,  and  Edward,  long  known  and  respected  in  the  banking  circles  of 
Wall  Street. 

At  No.  15  in  early  days  resided  Mr.  Lewis,  among  whose  children  were  Horatio  Gates 
Lewis,  who  married  Mrs.  Ludlow  Ogden,  counsellor  at  law,  in  his  early  life  associated  in 


[91] 


Mayor  Philip  Hone's  House  and  Dr.  Mason's  Church 


business  with  Gen.  Alexander  Hamilton  after  his  retirement  from  the  army  and  return  to 
professional  pursuits.  Mr.  Ogden  was  for  many  years  a  Trustee  of  Columbia  College  and 
Vestryman  of  Trinity  Church,  a  position  now  held  by  his  grandson  bearing  the  same  name. 
No.  11  was  occupied  by  Mr.  Ogden  before  his  removal  to  No.  13  and  afterwards  by  Mr. 
Henry  Laight  and  his  sister,  Miss  Maria  Laight,  and  in  the  year  1828  by  Mr.  Eleazer 
Parmly,  who  practised  there  the  profession  of  dentistry  with  a  skill  and  knowledge  unknown 
before  in  the  city. 

In  the  year  1815  there  lived  in  the  same  vicinity  Dr.  James  McNevin,  who  married 
the  widow  of  Mr.  Thorn,  whose  daughter,  Miss  Anna  Thorn,  married  Thomas  Addis  Emmet, 
nephew  of  Robert  Emmet,  the  Irish  Patriot,  and  son  of  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  a  dis- 
tinguished counsellor  at  law  in  our  city,  whose  monument  may  be  seen  in  St.  Paul's  Church- 
yard. 

Nearby  resided  Mr.  John  McKesson,  whose  son,  bearing  the  same  name,  married  Miss 
Suffern.  Next,  Mr.  Main,  the  father  of  Dr.  Austin  Main,  who  married  a  daughter  of  Mr. 
Allison  Post  and  resided  for  many  years  in  Paris. 

On  the  corner  was  Mechanics'  Hall,  in  which  lodged  at  different  periods  many  respecta- 
ble occupants. 

In  the  innocent  period  to  which  I  look  back,  there  were  no  such  convenient  memories  as 
now  exist,  combining  perfect  knowledge  as  to  the  people  of  the  right  sort,  with  complete  igno- 
rance as  to  even  the  existence  of  those  of  the  other  sort,  though  just  as  near  by.  On  the 
contrary,  there  was  a  friendly  feeling  prevailing  throughout  the  neighborhood;  a  knowledge 
and  interest  in  all  that  was  going  on,  especially  births  and  deaths,  and  important  events 
occurring  between  those  final  periods,  such  as  marriages  and  christenings.  At  funerals,  the 
houses  adjoining  were  opened  to  receive  the  overflow  of  the  house  of  death,  and  colored  serv- 
ants with  napkins  around  the  arm  stood,  as  I  well  remember,  at  the  respective  doors  ready 
to  do  the  honors  with  the  grace  peculiar  to  the  race,  and  within  doors  were  comfortable  sit- 
tings, and  on  the  sideboard  was  the  decanter  with  the  old  Madeira  ready  for  support  and 
comfort  on  occasions  so  melancholy. 

The  immediate  neighborhood  had  also  many  well-known  families.  Mr.  Philip  Hone's 
house  was  around  the  corner  on  Broadway,  between  Park  Place  and  Barclay.  He  had 
for  next-door  neighbors  Mr.  Philip  Lydig,  Mr.  Kilian  Van  Rensselaer  and  Mr.  William 
Schuyler.  Dr.  Mason's  church,  one  of  the  most  popular  divines  of  the  day,  was  on  Mur- 
ray Street,  and  was  well  attended  by  all  the  surrounding  neighborhood.  With  the  Brick 
Presbyterian  Church  directly  across  on  Park  Row,  and  St.  Paul's  on  the  corner  of  Broad- 
way and  Vesey  Street,  the  neighborhood  was  well  calculated  to  provide  for  the  spiritual 
as  well  as  the  social  needs  of  the  vicinity. 

Long  before  the  College  moved  trade  had  made  serious  inroads  on  the  old  street,  and 
before  the  stately  old  buildings  were  finally  demolished,  most  of  the  old  neighbors  had  gone 
farther  uptown — some  as  far  as  Bond  Street,  and  some  even  to  Washington  Square. 

With  the  fountain  playing  in  the  Park  just  at  the  entrance  to  the  Place,  with  the  tall 
sycamores  and  elms  in  the  College  grounds,  and  the  handsome  shade  trees  which  lined  both 
sides  of  the  street,  quaint  old  aristocratic  Park  Place  was  for  many  years  one  of  the  show 
places  of  the  town.  But  its  period  of  tranquillity  was  doomed  to  an  early  demise.  Busi- 
ness crept  along  Broadway  up  and  down  the  side  streets  and  soon  society  fled  northward — 
this  time  a  long  distance — to  St.  John's  Park.  There  they  seemed  secure  from  further  en- 
croachment and  soon  this  favorite  locality  became  the  centre  of  the  city's  social  life. 


[92] 


IT  IS  DOUBTFUL  IF  ANY  BUILDING  IN  NEW  YORK  AT  THAT  TIME  WAS 
BETTER  KNOWN  THAN  BARNUM  S  MUSEUM  AND  WHEN  IT  BURNED 
DOWN  IT  FURNISHED  A  FITTING  CLIMAX  TO  THE  LONG  LIST  OF 
SENSATIONS  WHICH  IT  HAD  ALREADY  CREATED  A  DEAD  WHALE 
LAY  IN  THE  STREETS  FOR  TWO  DAYS  AFTER  THE  FIRE.  AND  A 
MARBLE  STATUE  OF  QUEEN  VICTORIA  PERCHED  BLITHELY  AMONG 
THE  BLACKENED  RUINS  FOR  A  WEEK 

SO  THOROUGHLY  DID  BARNUM  EXPLOIT  HIS  CATASTROPHE  THAT  IT 
ULTIMATELY  BECAME  A  TRIUMPH.  THE  MUSEUM  STOOD  ON  THE 
CORNER  OF  BROADWAY  AND  ANN  STREET.  WHERE  THE  ST.  PAUL 
BUILDING  NOW  IS. 

FROM    THE    COLLECTION    OF    MR    HENRT  MORGENTHAU. 


St.  John's  Organ  Captured  by  the  British,  1812 


ST.  JOHN'S  PARK 

The  streets  immediately  adjoining  the  Park  and  the  church  were  the  most  favored  locali- 
ties. Varick  Place  took  the  lead.  At  No.  1  lived  Mr.  John  Aspinwall;  No.  2,  Mr.  Philip 
Henry ;  No.  3,  Mr.  G.  R.  Berry,  James  Loved,  Willie  Gorg ;  No.  4,  Mr.  G.  T.  Plum ;  at  No. 
6,  Mr.  P.  V.  King;  7,  H.  W.  D.  Olson;  8,  Samuel  Coleman;  9,  Moses  Henriques;  10,  Alex- 
ander Frazier;  11,  Mr.  J.  L.  Pratt;  12,  Mr.  John  Wordsworth;  13,  Mr.  Abraham  Van  Nest; 
14,  Mr.  S.  S.  Benedict;  16,  Mr.  James  Adriance;  18,  Ezra  Wheeler,  and  20,  Ebenezer  Hoyt. 

On  Beach  Street,  among  others,  were  Mr.  George  Griffen,  Mr.  C.  G.  Smedberg,  Mr.  Wm. 
Kemble,  Mr.  Daniel  Lord,  Jr.,  Mr.  George  de  Forrest,  and  Mr.  Robert  Hyslop. 

The  Park  at  that  time  stretched  from  the  Church  to  Hudson  Street,  and,  as  can  be  seen 
from  our  illustration,  was  a  delightful  spot  with  its  tall  sycamore  and  chestnut  trees  and 
its  abundant  flowers.  For  a  long  time  this  neighborhood  held  undisputed  sway  as  the  leading 
social  centre,  but  with  the  sale  of  the  Park  to  the  New  York  Central  Railroad  for  a  freight 
station,  its  glory  rapidly  departed  and  once  more  migration  resumed  its  northern  march. 

Depau  Row  on  Bleecker  Street  between  Thompson  and  Sullivan — convenient  to  the  Park — 
was  a  very  distinguished  block.  Mr.  A.  T.  Stewart,  the  great  dry-goods  merchant,  lived  at 
No.  6;  Mr.  H.  A.  Schiff,  Mr.  T.  0.  Fowler,  Sylvie  de  Grasse  Depau  in  No.  2,  and  Mr.  P.  M. 
Wetmore  in  No.  1.  For  a  long  time  Depau  Row  was  one  of  the  show  places  in  town.  Its 
architecture  was  in  decided  contrast  to  anything  else  in  the  city  and  it  retained  its  social 
prestige  for  many  years.  ' 

St.  John's  Chapel  itself,  on  Varick  Street,  was  completed  in  1807,  at  an  unparalleled 
cost  for  that  day.  The  ground  upon  which  it  stood  was  part  of  King's  Farm,  granted  by 
Queen  Anne  to  Trinity  Church.  St.  John's  was  modelled  after  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields  of 
London,  as  had  been  St.  Paul's  at  Broadway  and  Fulton  Street.  The  organ,  which  was  built 
in  Philadelphia,  was  captured  en  route  by  the  British  cruiser  Plantagenet  in  the  War  of  1812, 
and  was  in  London  for  several  years  until  a  ransom  of  $2,000.00  was  paid.  (We  append  a 
rather  quaint  account  of  this  incident  copied  from  the  daily  press  of  that  period.)  The 
church  bell  and  the  clock  were  imported  from  England  before  the  War  of  1812. 

(From  the  Weekly  Register  of  Baltimore) 

Contemptible. — Many  of  the  little  craft  captured  by  the  Plantagenet,  of  seventy-four 
guns,  are  ransomed  at  the  price  of  from  one  to  two  hundred  dollars  each.  A  great  business 
this,  for  a  ship  of  the  line!  Among  its  captures  was  a  vessel  with  an  organ  for  one  of  the 
Episcopal  churches  in  New  York.  Now,  a  gentleman  might  suppose  that  this  article  would 
have  passed  harmless.  No;  no;  they  who  robbed  the  church  at  Hampton,  demanded  and 
received  for  its  ransom  $2,000.  I  ask  emphatically — and  let  every  one  answer  the  question — 
Is  there  any  officer  in  the  American  navy  that  would  do  this  thing?  The  commander  of  a 
row-boat  pirateer  would  despise  it. 


BOND  STREET 

This  short  street,  running  only  from  Broadway  to  Third  Avenue,  made  up  by  the  promi- 
nence of  its  occupants  for  any  physical  deficiency.  The  famous  Samuel  Ward  lived  on  the 
corner  of  Broadway  and  Bond.  The  first  Circulating  Library  in  the  city  was  organized  in 
this  street,  by  the  ladies  of  the  Sunday  School  of  Grace  Church. 


[95] 


Once  the  Home  of  Society 


Great  Jones  Street,  a  block  above  and  which  is  included  in  the  Bond  Street  district, 
contained  the  residence  of  Mr.  Philip  Hone,  Mayor  of  the  city  in  1824,  and  whose  delightful 
"Diary"  has  given  us  the  most  accurate  picture  of  New  York  social  life  in  the  early  years  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  Next  to  him  lived  his  brother,  Mr.  Robert  Hone.  These  homes  were 
the  rendezvous  of  all  the  leading  men  and  women  of  the  day  in  society  and  letters,  and  Mr. 
Philip  Hone  also  entertained  nearly  every  visitor  of  prominence  who  came  from  abroad.  His 
"Diary"  is  at  once  the  most  informing  and  illuminating  book  of  its  time,  and  a  perusal  is  even 
at  this  late  day  replete  with  interest  to  the  student  of  old  New  York. 

Up  from  Bond  Street  came  Lafayette  Place,  the  site  chosen  by  John  Jacob  Astor  after 
his  removal  from  Broadway.  His  home  stood  south  of  where  the  old  Library  was — now  about 
417  Lafayette  Street.  On  the  corner  of  Astor  Place  and  Lafayette  was  the  home  of  his  mar- 
ried daughter,  Mrs.  Woodbury  Langdon.  This  building  was  torn  down  in  1875  to  make  room 
for  J.  J.  Little's  Printing  House. 

Along  Lafayette  Place  was  a  row  of  houses  flanked  by  a  line  of  columns.  This  later 
became  celebrated  as  "Colonnade  Row"  and  is  still  standing  (1913),  but  in  a  rather  dilapidated 
condition. 

But  again  business  encroached  and  the  social  centre  moved  to  St.  Mark's  Place  on  the  east 
and  to  Washington  Square  on  the  west. 


ST.  MARK'S  PLACE  IN  THE  FIFTIES 

The  hand  of  Time  has  fallen  heavily  upon  beautiful  St.  Mark's  Place,  as  it  has  fallen  on  all 
the  former  residential  sections  of  the  city,  and  where  some  of  our  most  representative  families 
once  lived,  the  moving  picture  and  garish  cafes  now  hold  full  sway,  and  make  it  difficult  for 
even  memory  and  imagination  to  restore  the  splendors  of  yesterday. 

Fifty  or  sixty  years  ago  St.  Mark's  Place  was  at  the  height  of  its  glory.  Mr.  D.  Anthon 
lived  on  the  corner  of  Tenth  Street  and  Second  Avenue.  He  was  for  many  years  the  rector 
of  old  St.  Mark's  Church  and  died  in  charge  of  that  parish.  On  the  northwest  corner  of 
Eleventh  Street  and  Second  Avenue  Mr.  P.  G.  Stuyvesant  had  his  residence,  and  two  doors 
north  lived  Mr.  D.  Ellis,  whose  five  sons  fought  in  the  Battle  of  Bull  Run,  two  of  whom  were 
afterwards  killed  during  the  war.  The  garden  of  Mr.  Bruen,  who  lived  in  the  granite  house 
now  occupied  by  a  cafe,  was  well-nigh  famous,  and  extended  to  near  Ninth  Street,  on  the 
corner  of  which  lived  Dr.  Rippen.  Mrs.  N.  W.  Stuyvesant  lived  on  the  east  side  of  Second 
Avenue  between  Eighth  and  Ninth  Streets;  on  the  corner  next  to  her  dwelt  Benjamin  Win- 
throp,  and  near  Ninth  Street  Mr.  Hamilton  Fish  had  his  home.  He  was  among  the  first  to 
leave  the  neighborhood,  and  built  a  very  fine  residence  on  the  block  between  Seventeenth  and 
Eighteenth  Streets  on  Second  Avenue,  the  ground  of  which  is  now  occupied  by  the  Lying-in 
Hospital  built  by  the  late  Mr.  J.  P.  Morgan.  The  fine  house  of  Mr.  Eugene  Keteltas  occu- 
pied the  corner  of  St.  Mark's  Place  and  Second  Avenue,  which  until  within  the  past  year  was 
occupied  by  Miss  Alice  Keteltas.  Next  to  the  Keteltases  lived  Mr.  Reuben  Withers.  At  num- 
ber 145  Stuyvesant  Place,  which  was  part  of  St.  Mark's  Place,  lived  Mr.  Joseph  Kernochan, 
and  at  number  127  lived  Mr.  Schuyler  Livingston.  Mr.  Gerard  Stuyvesant  resided  at  num- 
ber 124  Second  Avenue,  or  number  126  as  it  now  is,  in  which  house  the  present  Mr.  A.  Van 
Horne  Stuyvesant  was  born.  This  old  mansion  has  now  fallen  from  its  once  high  estate  and 
is  a  moving  picture  theatre.    The  Mortimer  family  lived  next  door,  and  just  below  was  the 


[96] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN 


An  Jmportant  lirut  from  Urooklgu  Sjrighta 


THE  SKY  LINE  OF  NEW  YORK  AS  SEEN  FROM  BROOKLYN  HEIGHTS  IN 
1825.  SHOWN  ABOVE,  IS  A  VASTLY  DIFFERENT  THING  FROM  WHAT 
WE  SEE  TO  DAY;  AND  THE  HOMES  ON  THE  HEIGHTS  IN  BROOKLYN 
WERE  ALSO  STRANGELY  DIFFERENT-  THE  SHIPPING  IN  THE  RIVER 
IS  EXTREMELY  INTERESTING,  AS  ARE  ALSO  THE  PIGEONS  AND  RURAL 
AIR  OF  THIS  HOME  ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  THIS  IS  ONE  OF  THE  FAMOUS 
AQUATINTS  BY  BENNETT,  OF  WHICH  VERY  FEW  COPIES  EXIST  THE 
ORIGINAL  COPPER  PLATE  RECENTLY  DISCOVERED  IS  OWNED  BY  MR. 
HARRIS  D  COLT.  WHO  HAS  HAD  IT  CLEANED  AND  FRAMED  FOR  HIS 
COLLECTION. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR.  HERBERT  L.  PRATT. 


Last  Stand  of  the  Knickerbockers 


Brown  home.  In  Stuyvesant  Place  were  the  residences  of  L.  W.  Wells,  Mr.  George  Kinney,  Eli 
Benedict,  H.  W.  Livingston,  I.  H.  Abeel,  G.  J.  Leeds,  W.  B.  Brewster,  M.  M.  Quackenbos, 
P.  L.  Chauncey,  William  Hoze,  J.  E.  Edgar  and  C.  0.  Halsted.  Ah,  surely,  those  were  palmy 
days  for  old  St.  Mark's ! 

WASHINGTON  SQUARE 

The  North  Side  of  Washington  Square  still  bids  defiance  to  the  encroachments  of  trade, 
the  advent  of  cliff  dwellers,  and  the  hordes  of  aliens  who  disport  themselves  in  the  park, 
where  formerly  only  the  blue  bloods  were  permitted  to  mingle.  Three  sides  of  the  quadrangle 
have  already  surrendered,  but  the  fourth  remains  obdurate.  It  is  pathetic — this  last  desperate 
stand  of  the  Knickerbockers — but  at  the  same  time  inspiring. 

They  and  their  families  are  not  unused  to  such  experiences.  They  can  remember  their 
grandmothers'  talk  of  Bowling  Green,  State  Street,  College  Place,  St.  John's  Park,  Bond 
Street,  Lafayette  Place  and  other  strongholds  of  fashionable  society — all  of  them  long  ages 
ago  abandoned  and  surrendered  to  the  ruthless  onslaught  of  commerce. 

Time  was,  and  not  so  long  ago,  when  Washington  Square  was  the  ultima  thule  of  all  things 
fashionable.  It  was  the  home  of  all  that  was  most  desirable  in  New  York  Society.  It  con- 
tained more  families  bearing  old  names  than  any  other  section  of  the  city,  and,  in  fact,  to  live 
in  Washington  Square  was  tantamount  to  a  select  niche  in  the  inner  shrines  of  New  York's 
most  exclusive  circles.  And  to  this  day  there  still  remain  some  of  the  best  known  names  in 
the  city — De  Forest,  Tailers,  Rhinelanders,  Heckschers,  Stewarts,  Duncans,  etc.,  etc. 

Some  few  years  ago  the  old  New  York  University  Buildings  were  finally  removed  to  make 
room  for  a  business  building.  When  the  University  was  new,  all  the  four  sides  of  Washing- 
ton Square  were  occupied  by  substantial  three  and  four  story  brick  houses  of  ample  width. 
Stately  trees  lined  the  streets  and  the  Square  itself  was  a  place  of  endless  delight  with  its  tall 
sycamores  and  velvety  lawns.  Here  came  the  Seventh  and  other  regiments  to  have  their  open 
air  parade  and  exhibition  drills.  Such  occasions  were  gala  days  in  the  old  Square,  the  memory 
of  which  is  graciously  cherished. 

A  man  on  an  income  of  thirty  or  fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year  in  those  days  was  consid- 
ered very  wealthy.  The  coachman  and  footmen  were  not  above  acting  as  butlers  and  waiters 
on  occasion,  and  the  nursemaids  would  turn  to  and  help  the  other  servants  on  occasions  of 
hospitality.  The  groom  did  many  other  things  than  merely  tend  the  horses — he  brought 
wood  for  the  fires,  cleaned  windows  and  made  himself  generally  useful.  Six  servants  were  con- 
sidered sufficient  for  a  well-appointed  household,  and  there  were  no  such  niceties  of  distinc- 
tion in  household  service  as  exist  to-day.  Most  of  the  houses  had  their  own  stables  and  gar- 
dens attached  and  all  the  work  incident  to  their  upkeep  was  performed  without  outside  assist- 
ance. The  rooms  above  the  stable  made  comfortable  quarters  for  the  coachman  and  his  fam- 
ily, with  accommodations  for  others  when  needed. 

Elaborate  country  residences  in  addition  to  the  town  house  were  not  imperative  then  as 
they  are  to-day.  A  short  visit  to  Newport  during  the  season  in  a  modest  rented  cottage  was 
sufficient,  interspersed  with  an  occasional  trip  to  Europe.  Far  Rockaway  and  Long  Branch 
were  considered  fashionable  resorts  nearby,  while  Saratoga,  Richfield  Springs  and  the  Hudson 
River  were  eminently  proper  as  social  centres. 

An  idea  of  the  importance  of  Rockaway  as  a  fashionable  resort  may  be  gained  from  the 
fact  that  a  subscription  was  completed  for  building  a  Marine  Pavilion  at  Rockaway,  as  an 


[99] 


Summer  Vacations  Hardly  Known 


elegant  place  of  summer  resort.  Some  seventy  gentlemen  subscribed  five  hundred  dollars  each, 
the  list  including  such  names  as  Prime,  Ray,  King,  Hone,  Cruger,  Howland,  Suffern,  Coster, 
Hoyt,  Schermerhorn,  Crosby,  Whitney,  Newbold,  Gihon,  Parish,  Thorne,  Grinnell,  Suydam, 
Kissam,  Heckscher,  Cutting,  Livingston,  Stuyvesant,  etc.,  but  notwithstanding  these  names  and 
the  expectations  of  success,  this  resort,  though  established  according  to  the  plan  and  being  a 
delightful  place,  never  prospered.  New  Yorkers  of  fashion,  including  most  of  the  subscribers, 
soon  after  abandoned  Rockaway  as  too  near  the  town. 

The  summer  season  was  short — August  being  the  only  real  holiday  month.  Vacations  from 
business  were  practically  unknown,  and  the  schools  kept  open  through  July.  A  few  weeks  dur- 
ing the  worst  of  the  heated  term  were  about  all  that  was  expected,  and  by  September  vacation 
would  end. 

The  denizens  of  the  Square  to-day  on  the  North  Side  can  recall  those  days  quite  clearly. 
It  is  not  ancient  history  to  them.  Some  have  changed  with  the  times.  Others  have  remained 
about  the  same. 

But  the  north  is  not  the  only  side  of  the  Square.  On  the  south  tower  great  loft  buildings, 
occupied  by  the  factories  of  garment  makers  where  imposing  private  residences  formerly  stood. 
On  the  west,  impertinent  apartment  houses  and  studio  buildings  flaunt  themselves,  their  newness 
seeming  to  scoff  and  jeer  at  the  old,  like  naughty  lads  ridiculing  a  prophet's  baldness.  But  it  is 
a  question  whether  this  stiff  newness  is  more  painful  than  the  old  broken-down  buildings  bor- 
dering the  south,  decrepit  and  ancient,  occupied  by  saloons,  cheap  table-d'hotes  and  rooming 
houses. 

Nor  is  the  present  the  only  side  of  the  Square.  In  "Cyril  Greene"  Mr.  Theodore  Win- 
throp  gives  another  side — the  bleak  desolation  of  winter  days  when  the  old  park  began  to 
degenerate  from  its  former  estate.  In  later  days  came  the  breadline,  though  since  discon- 
tinued, when  the  derelicts  of  society  came  to  receive  the  pittance  of  charity  from  those  more 
fortunate.  And  soundly  sleep  those  who  were  buried  there  long  before  Washington  Square 
became  fashionable,  whom  all  of  these  changes  have  failed  to  disturb,  for,  like  others  of  New 
York's  squares,  this  was  a  pauper  burial  place. 

The  Washington  Arch  was  erected  in  1889  during  the  Centennial  celebration  for  which 
Mr.  William  Rhinelander  Stewart  deserves  due  credit  as  originator.  It  serves  as  a  sort  of 
dividing  line  at  which  Goths  and  Vandals  of  downtown  New  York  swerve  to  the  east  and  west 
and  leave  Fifth  Avenue  unmolested. 


[100] 


g>trn>t  UpttjoiHst  GUjurrt?,  17BB 


THIS  IS  THE  CRADLE  OF  METHODISM  IN  AMERICA.  THE  ORIGINAL 
BUILDING  STOOD  ON  THIS  SAME  SITE  BACK  IN  1768.  THE  CHURCH 
WAS  STARTED  IN  A  SAIL  LOFT  AT  120  WILLIAM  STREET  BY  BARBARA 
HECK.  WILLIAM  EMBURY  AND  CAPTAIN  WEBB.  AND  WAS  THE  FIRST 
OF  THAT  DENOMINATION  IT  IS  ONE  OF  THE  VERY  OLDEST 
CHURCHES   IN  AMERICA. 

ALMOST  ACROSS  THE  STREET,  AT  15-2  1.  STOOD  ALSO  THE  FIRST 
THEATRE  BUILT  IN  NEW  YORK  — THE  "ROYAL."  MAJOR  ANDRE 
PERFORMED  HERE  IN  PRODUCTIONS  OF  HIS  OWN  DURING  THE 
REVOLUTION.  AND  "HAIL  COLUMBIA"  WAS  PLAYED  FOR  THE  FIRST 
TIME  IN  HONOR  OF  WASHINGTON;  BY  FYLES,  ITS  COMPOSER  JOE 
JEFFERSON   MADE  HIS  FIRST  APPEARANCE  HERE.  ALSO. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION    OF  MR.  N    F.  PALMER 


SOME  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  GREENWICH 

VILLAGE 

By  Euphemia  M.  Olcott 

The  contact  of  our  family  with  Greenwich  Village  dates  back  to  the  days  of 
my  great-grandfather,  the  Rev.  John  M.  Mason,  D.D.,  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
in  Murray  Street,  who  lived  for  some  time  at  what  became  the  corner  of  Eleventh 
Street  and  Sixth  Avenue.  I  never  saw  him,  but  visited  the  house  in  my  child- 
hood, when  it  was  occupied  by  an  old  Mr.  Pringle,  who  was  a  friend  of  the  family. 
My  mother  was  born  away  out  in  the  country,  on  Lovers'  Lane  on  the  Oothout 
Farm,  where  her  grandfather  had  rented  a  house  to  take  his  family  out  of  the  reach 
of  cholera,  then  prevalent  in  the  city.  She  was  born  on  the  third  of  August,  1819 
— a  contemporary  of  Her  Majesty,  Queen  Victoria.  Her  birthplace  was  a  frame 
house  with  hip  roof.  In  after  years  a  brick  front  was  put  on  and  the  hip  roof  was 
straightened  up  with  bricks.  The  house  was  divided  into  two,  and  became  either 
32  and  34  West  Twentieth  Street,  or  34  and  36 — I  am  not  sure  which.  Only  a 
dozen  years  ago,  when  business  made  its  inroads  into  that  section,  I  discovered 
workmen  razing  the  building,  and  the  next  one  having  been  previously  demolished, 
I  could  see  the  outline  of  the  old  roof  and  some  of  the  original  clapboards.  Much 
to  the  amazement  of  the  laborers  I  asked  for  and  secured  some  pieces  of  these  clap- 
boards and  distributed  sections  of  them  at  our  family  dinner  table  on  the  next 
Thanksgiving  Day.  My  mother  grew  up  at  the  corner  of  Fulton  and  Nassau 
Streets,  her  father  being  the  Rev.  John  Knox,  D.D.,  whose  pastorate  of  forty 
years  was  in  the  Collegiate  Dutch  Church.  She  often  visited  in  Greenwich  Village, 
both  at  her  grandfather's  and  at  the  home  of  Mr.  Abraham  Van  Nest,  which  had 
been  built  and  originally  occupied  by  Sir  Peter  Warren.  But  she  never  thought  of 
going  so  far  for  less  than  a  week!  There  was  a  city  conveyance  for  part  of  the 
way,  and  then  the  old  Greenwich  stage  enabled  them  to  complete  the  long  journey. 
This  ran  several  times  a  day,  and  when  my  mother  committed  her  hymn, 

"Hasten,  sinner,  to  be  be  wise, 
Ere  this  evening's  stage  be  run," 

she  told  us  that  for  some  years  it  never  occurred  to  her  that  it  could  mean  any- 
thing in  the  world  but  the  Greenwich  stage.  Mr.  Van  Nest's  house  was  as  dear 
to  my  young  days  as  to  those  of  my  mother.  It  was  a  square  frame  house  on  a 
slight  elevation  in  the  midst  of  land  bounded  by  Fourth  and  Bleecker,  Charles  and 
Perry  Streets.    It  was  the  country  residence  of  a  gentleman,  with  flower  and  vege- 


[103] 


White  Pantalettes,  Red  Merino  Skirts 


table  gardens,  a  stable,  a  cow,  chickens,  pigeons  and  a  peacock,  all  dear  to  childish 
hearts.   And  likewise 

"In  that  mansion  used  to  be 
Free-hearted  hospitality." 

From  its  doors  many  children  had  married  and  gone  forth  before  my  time  came, 
and  the  mother  I  never  knew.  But  "old  Mr.  Van  Nest,"  a  faithful  elder  in  our 
church,  one  especially  liberal  in  his  ideas  of  what  the  ministers  ought  to  receive, 
and  his  daughter,  Miss  Katherine  Van  Nest,  made  many  young  hearts  happy,  not 
only  the  returning  grandchildren,  but  those  who,  like  myself,  could  present  only 
claims  of  friendship  with  kinship.  A  large  hall  ran  through  the  house  and  a  large 
mahogany  table  stood  there,  and  this  was  always  furnished  with  a  large  silver  cake- 
basket  full  of  delicious  sponge-cake,  a  batch  of  which  must  have  been  made  every 
morning,  I  am  sure,  by  the  colored  cook.  And  from  this  basket  we  were  urged — 
no!  we  never  needed  urging — we  were  permitted  to  help  ourselves — and  we  did. 
This  was  just  for  ordinary  days,  but  yearly,  at  least,  there  was  a  children's  party 
where  mirth  and  jollity  reigned  and  all  old-fashioned  games  were  played  and 
every  child  carried  home  a  charming  little  gift.  A  party  dress  then  was — I 
remember  one  such  very  distinctly  from  my  pride  in  its  acquisition — a  red  merino, 
short  enough  to  show  the  white  pantalettes  which  went  down  to  our  ankles,  and 
over  it  a  dotted  Swiss  muslin  apron  with  straps  over  the  shoulders.  And  we  felt 
just  as  fine  as  the  more  bedizened  little  creatures  of  to-day — and  I  yield  to  no 
generations,  before  our  days  or  since,  in  the  good  times  we  had. 

It  was  in  1843  that  my  mother  married,  her  father  then  being  resident  at  the 
corner  of  Fourth  and  Mercer  Streets.  There  I  was  born  in  1844,  and  when  I  was 
two  months  old  I  was  carried  to  her  home,  where  I  still  reside.  This  is  in  Thir- 
teenth Street,  west  of  Sixth  Avenue.  There  was  a  drugstore,  kept  by  Mrs.  M. 
Giles,  on  the  corner,  and  beyond  that  lot  began  a  row  of  dwelling  houses  of  which 
my  father  bought  the  fifth,  but  latterly  business  has  absorbed  four  of  these, 
so  that  we  are  now  the  first  residence  on  the  block.  It  was  very  far  uptown  in 
those  days — there  is  a  letter  still  extant  which  predicts  that  my  mother  will  never 
see  her  old  friends,  for  they  cannot  go  so  far  up — and  it  was  thought  very  narrow, 
being  only  twenty  feet  wide.  Oilcloth  was  in  those  days  laid  in  the  halls,  but  my 
grandfather  advised  against  it,  saying,  "Throw  down  a  strip  of  carpet,  Helen; 
you  won't  stay  here  five  years."  She  stayed  sixty-five,  until  she  was  within  two 
months  of  ninety  years,  when  she  went  to  her  home  above.  Nine  children  were 
born  there,  one  of  whom  made  a  very  brief  stay  in  this  world — but  eight  of  us  grew 
up,  four  boys  and  four  girls,  a  natural,  wholesome,  noisy,  merry  set  of  young- 
sters, whose  old-fashioned  ways  would  doubtless  amaze  the  succeeding  generations. 
Just  to  mention  one  thing — no  Sunday  paper  has  ever  been  delivered  at  our  door. 

The  location,  considered  from  a  sanitary  point  of  view,  has  always  been  excel- 
lent; in  fact,  it  was  a  knowledge  of  this  that  determined  its  choice.  The  Croton 
water  was  in  the  house,  and  even  a  bath-tub,  but  no  stationary  tubs  for  a  good 
many  years,  and  well  do  I  remember  seeing  the  maids  on  Monday  afternoon  carry- 

[  104  ] 


ON  THE  SITE  OF  THE  RESIDENCE  OF  MR  PETER  DELANCEY  ON 
BROADWAY.  ABOVE  TRINITY  CHURCH.  WAS  ERECTED  THE  FIRST 
REGULAR  HOTEL  IN  OUR  CITY  IT  WAS  AN  IMPOSING  STRUCTURE 
FOR  SO  YOUNG  A  METROPOLIS.  AND  FOR  A  LONG  TIME  WAS  THE 
LARGEST  AND  MOST  CONSPICUOUS  BUILDING  IN  NEW  YORK.  IT 
IS  A  NOTED  FEATURE  IN  ST.  MEMIN'S  PANTOGRAPH  (PUBLISHED  IN 
PARIS.  1798).  WHICH  WAS  THE  FIRST  SKY  LINE"  VIEW  OF  NEW 
YORK.  A  REFERENCE  TO  THE  QUAINT  OLD  LITHOGRAPH  ABOVE 
SHOWS  THAT  IT  WAS  JUSTLY  ENTITLED  TO  THE  FAME  WHICH  IT 
ACHIEVED.  BOTH  AS  A  BUILDING  AND  AS  A  HOTEL  OF  THE  VERY 
FIRST  RANK.  PRIOR  TO  THIS  TIME  TAVERNS  AND  PRIVATE  HOUSES 
WERE  THE  ONLY  PLACES  TO  WHICH  A  TRAVELLER  MIGHT  REPAIR 
FOR  SHELTER.  AND  THE  CITY  HOTEL  WAS  A  VAST  IMPROVEMENT 
AFTER  A  LONG  CAREER  OF  UNUSUAL  PROSPERITY.  DURING  WHICH 
TIME  IT  WAS  THE  SCENE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  BACHELORS-  BALL." 
THE  ONE  GREAT  SOCIETY  EVENT  OF  THE  SEASON .  AND  ENTER- 
TAINED NEARLY  ALL  THE  DISTINGUISHED  VISITORS  TO  NEW  YORK, 
OFFICIALLY  AND  SOCIALLY.  IT  WAS  TURNED  INTO  AN  OFFICE 
BUILDING.  THE  PARK  VIEW  HOTEL.  OR  ASTOR  HOUSE.  MUCH 
FURTHER  UPTOWN.  1835.  SUCCEEDING  TO  ITS  PATRONAGE  AND 
PRESTIGE  THE  WELL- REMEMBERED  BOREEL  BUILDING  SUCCEEDED 
THE  OFFICE  BUILDING  NOW  THE  SITE  OF  THE  MAGNIFICENT 
TWIN  OFFICE  BUILDINGS.  TRINITY  (No  111)  AND  UNITED  STATES 
REALTY  (No   1  15). 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  J.  C.  B  R  E  VOO  RT. 


Delightful  Intimacy  among  Neighbors 


ing  out  the  round  tubs  and  emptying  them  into  the  gutter,  and  great  was  our  glee 
if  the  water  soused  a  great  black  pig  from  its  siesta — for  these  creatures  roamed 
at  large  and  were  the  only  scavengers  of  any  consequence. 

Well  do  I  remember  also  the  introduction  of  gas  and  how  we  followed  our 
father  from  room  to  room  as  he  triumphantly  lit  each  burner.  It  was  a  frolic 
after  that  on  winter  evenings  to  shuffle  across  the  carpet  and  light  the  gas  with 
an  electric  spark  from  the  tips  of  our  fingers,  I  being  the  one  most  usually  suc- 
cessful in  this  feat. 

Our  back  yard — about  40  x  60  feet — contained  a  peach  tree,  an  apricot  tree  and 
a  grape-vine.  These  bore  plentifully  and  our  peaches  took  a  prize  one  year  at 
the  American  Institute  Fair.  We  also  had  beautiful  roses  and  many  other 
flowers.  From  one  back  window  we  could  look  up  to  Fifteenth  Street  and  Sixth 
Avenue,  where  a  frame  Lutheran  church  stood,  the  singing  of  whose  hymns  we 
could  distinctly  hear  on  Sunday  afternoons.  The  frame  church  was  replaced  by 
a  stone  one,  but  that  was  long  since  swept  away  by  the  onrush  of  business.  Where 
the  armory  now  stands,  there  was  a  marble  yard,  and  it  was  one  of  our  pleasures 
to  pick  up  bits  of  the  marble  and  use  them  for  sharpening  the  then  necessary  but 
now  obsolete  slate-pencil.  Just  above  Fourteenth  Street  on  the  west  side  of  Sixth 
Avenue  was  a  plot  of  ground,  surrounded  by  a  high  wooden  fence — and  in  this 
was  a  building  from  which  I  first  learned  the  French  word  "creche."  It  was, 
of  course,  a  day  nursery  and  we  used  to  stop  at  the  fence  and  watch  the  little  tots 
whose  blue-checked  gingham  aprons  I  can  still  see.  Ours  was  a  neighborhood  of 
young  married  people  with  constantly  increasing  families — the  news  of  "a  new 
baby  at  our  house"  being  frequently  heralded.  We  all  knew  each  other  and 
played  together  in  the  little  court-yards,  on  the  balconies  or  on  the  front  stoops. 
Paper  doll  families  experienced  all  the  vicissitudes  of  our  own  families,  pin  wheels 
at  certain  seasons  were  exposed  on  the  balconies  and  sold  for  pins,  small  fairs  were 
gotten  up  for  charities,  valentines  were  exchanged,  and  when  the  great  revival  of 
1857-8  surged  through  the  city,  there  were  neighborhood  children's  prayer  meet- 
ings held  from  house  to  house.  When  more  active  pursuits  were  craved,  there  was 
always  opportunity  to  jump  the  rope  or  roll  the  hoople,  and  several  of  us 
achieved  the  coveted  distinction  of  running  entirely  round  the  block,  through  Sixth 
Avenue  to  Fourteenth  Street,  thence  to  Seventh  Avenue  and  back  to  Thirteenth 
Street  without  letting  the  hoople  drop.  Farther  afield  was  Union  Square,  to  which 
our  nurses  accompanied  us — a  high  fence  surrounded  it  and  dogs  were  excluded. 
I  do  not  recall  any  pump  there,  but  in  "The  Parade  Ground"  (Washington 
Square)  I  frequently  turned  at  the  pump  and  quenched  my  thirst  from  the  public 
tin  cup  without  any  fears  of  germs  or  any  disastrous  results.  In  my  grandfather's 
backyard  at  Fourth  and  Mercer  Streets  there  was  also  a  pump — and  to  this  day 
I  do  not  understand  physics  well  enough  to  know  why  was  poured  a  dipper  full  of 
water  into  the  pump  before  we  could  draw  any,  but  we  were  always  rewarded  with  a 
copious  flow. 

[107] 


Passing  of  the  "Village" 


Fourteenth  Street  between  Fifth  and  Sixth  Avenues  I  have  seen  with  three 
sets  of  buildings — first,  shanties  near  Sixth  Avenue  from  the  rear  of  which  it  was 
rumored  a  bogy  would  be  likely  to  pursue  and  kidnap  us.  I  remember  the  man 
from  whom  we  fled ;  he  was  a  chimney-sweep  of  somewhat  fierce  aspect  but  I  doubt 
extremely  that  he  had  any  malicious  propensities.  These  shanties  were  followed 
by  fine  brownstone  residences,  and  at  the  corners  of  Fifth  Avenue  lived  Mr.  I.  M. 
Halsted,  who  had  a  garden,  Mr.  Myndert  Van  Schank,  chief  eigineer  for  years  of 
the  Croton  Aqueduct,  Mr.  Moses  N.  Grinnell,  and  Mr.  Hemming,  and  perhaps 
earlier,  Mr.  Suffern.  Some  of  these,  however,  I  think  came  when  there  had 
ceased  to  be  a  village.  Later  on  came  business  into  Fourteenth  Street — but  I  am 
passing  the  village  period  and  getting  into  the  time  of  the  Civil  War.  I  must  not 
begin  on  those  memories  for  they  would  never  end,  and  there  was  no  longer  any 
Greenwich  Village. 

The  old  days  were  good,  but  I  believe  in  every  step  of  progress,  and  in  spite 
of  din  and  roar,  in  spite  of  crowds,  in  spite  of  the  foreign  population  crowding  into 
what  long  continued  to  be  the  American  section  of  the  city,  I  still  lift  my  head  with 
St.  Paul  and  say,  "I  am  a  citizen  of  no  mean  city." 


HOW  THE  NEWS  OF  THE  FALL  OF  VIGKSBURG  REACHED 

GREENWICH  VILLAGE 

The  Civil  War  covered  the  most  impressionable  part  of  my  life.  Well  do  I 
remember  being  roused  by  the  "Extras"  in  the  night  which  proclaimed  the  origi- 
nal attack  upon  Sumter.  I  sprang  from  my  bed,  and  from  the  third  story  hall 
saw  my  mother  gazing  up  from  the  second,  asking,  "Do  you  hear?  It  has  come." 
Then  followed  the  four  years  of  such  living  as  we  hope  and  believe  our  country 
will  never  see  again.  Of  course,  every  day  saw  the  enlistment  of  relatives  and 
friends — of  course  I  stood  in  the  street  and  saw  the  Seventh  and  the  Twenty- 
second  regiments  of  the  N".  Y.  militia  go  off — with  many  friends  of  my  own  age 
going  with  them.  I  may  say  parenthetically  that,  after  fifty  years,  I  saw,  from 
the  same  spot  in  Lafayette  Place,  the  Seventh  Regiment  start  over  the  same 
route,  the  veterans  either  on  foot  or  in  carriages.  And  from  the  old  Oriental 
Hotel,  kept  by  the  same  ladies,  floated  the  same  flag — with  the  stars  all  there, 
saluted  alike  by  veteran  and  the  boys  of  to-day. 

In  those  days  there  was  great  intimacy  between  our  family  and  the  Roose- 
velts,  and  we  always  witnessed  parades  from  the  house  of  Mr.  C.  V.  S.  Roose- 
velt, grandfather  of  "Teddy,"  at  the  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and  Broadway, 
with  a  garden  stretching  down  towards  Thirteenth  Street,  through  whose  green 
gate  we  entered  when  the  stoop  was  crowded  by  the  public.  From  those  windows 
I  saw  the  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards  Edward  VII,  and  from  that  roof  I 
gazed  upon  the  immense  mass  meeting  which  expressed  the  loyalty  of  the  North, 
which  was  memorably  addressed  by  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  and  the  scarcely  less 


[108] 


EJall  §>trrrt  Abmrt  1B45 


HERE  WE  HAVE  AN  INTERESTING  VIEW  OF  WALL  STREET  AT  AN 
IMPORTANT  TRANSITION  STAGE.  AFTER  THE  GREAT  FIRE  OF  1835. 
THIS  STREET  WAS  REBUILT  IN  A  MUCH  MORE  SUBSTANTIAL  MANNER 
— TH  E  BUILDINGS  HAVING  A  MORE  OR  LESS  ARCHITECTURAL  MERIT 
AND  IN  KEEPING  WITH  THE  GROWING  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  STREET 
AS  A  BUSINESS  CENTRE.  THE  SOUTH  SIDE  STILL  SHOWS  AN  ALMOST 
UNBROKEN  ROW  OF  PRIVATE  DWELLINGS.  AND  A  TREE  STILL 
ADORNS  THE  SIDEWALK  WHERE  NOW  STANDS  THE  BANKERS'  TRUST 
COMPANY. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR.  N.  F.  PALMER. 


Dark  Days  m  Old  Greenwich 


eloquent  George  W.  Bethune,  D.D.  I  remember  how  on  that  day  we  gazed  a 
little  doubtfully  at  the  mother  of  President  Roosevelt — lovely  and  dear  always — 
because,  forsooth,  she  came  from  Georgia ! 

The  call  of  the  President  for  75,000  troops  met  with  instant  response,  and 
from  all  sections  of  the  country  we  kept  hearing  of  relations  and  friends  who  were 
expecting  speedily  to  advance  "On  to  Richmond."  Alas!  it  took  the  disastrous 
Bull  Run  and  many  similar  events  to  make  us  realize  that  it  was  not  a  three  months' 
war.  Many,  many  friends  never  came  back,  and  when,  years  afterwards,  I  heard 
Joseph  Cook  say,  "I  belong  to  a  decimated  generation,"  I  knew  that  he  and  I  were 
contemporaries. 

But  there  were  victories — as  I  write  these  words,  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
Gettysburg  is  being  celebrated.  All  through  the  first,  second  and  third  days  of 
July,  1863,  we  kept  getting  word  of  success.  On  the  night  of  the  Fourth  we  were 
on  our  roof,  watching  the  skyrockets,  not  then  concealed  by  skyscrapers,  and  the 
sound  of  extras  arose.  "More  news  from  Gettysburg,"  we  cried,  and  hastened 
down,  my  father  being  the  first  to  get  to  the  street.  From  the  front  door  he  shouted, 
"It  isn't  Gettysburg — Vicksburg  has  surrendered" — and  of  course  our  joy  knew  no 
bounds.  Then  followed  an  illumination — how  often  I  think  of  it  as  I  go  along 
the  "great  white  way" — for  electricity  was  then  only  harnessed  to  telegraph  wires 
and  a  little  tallow  dip  in  each  pane  satisfied  our  ideas  of  brilliancy. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  that  July  I  left  New  York  with  a  merry  party  for  a 
summer  outing  in  New  Hampshire.  At  Bellows  Falls  we  had  to  wait  for  a  train 
from  Boston,  and  when  it  came,  there  were  extras  again.  And  lo!  they  told  us  of 
the  draft  riots  in  New  York,  which  had  been  so  peaceful  that  morning.  My 
father  was  still  in  the  city,  and  of  course  he  did  patrol  work,  as  every  one  else  did 
who  was  on  the  right  side. 

I  have  not  spoken  of  the  great  fair  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and  I  am 
not  sure  in  which  year  it  occurred,  but  all  women  and  girls  consecrated  their  time 
and  their  money,  with  what  results  the  world  knows.  Nor  have  I  mentioned  how 
boys  and  girls  alike  scraped  lint  and  rolled  bandages  and  made  "Havelocks"  during 
classes  in  school — and  doubtless  sent  them  off  laden  with  germs  which  would  make 
the  surgeons  of  to-day  shudder  and  turn  pale.  So  we  lived — and  at  last  the  troops 
did  get  to  Richmond  and  the  day  of  great  rejoicing  came.  And  after  the  assassina- 
tion of  our  President,  ah  me !  I  sometimes  think  the  gay  and  happy  young  people 
of  the  next  generation  have  not  known  what  living  means,  even  if  they  did  have  a 
bit  of  a  taste  of  war  during  that  hot  summer  when  we  liberated  Cuba  and  took 
upon  ourselves  the  responsibility  of  the  Philippines. 


[Ill] 


GREENWICH  VILLAGE  IN  HISTORY 


An  Old-time  Beauty  Spot  on  Manhattan  Island — Still  Lovingly  Referred  to  by 
Its  Former  Residents  as  "the  Village" — Many  Prominent  New  Yorkers  Born 
There. 

Admiral  Sir  Peter  Warren  was  in  New  York  in  1744.  He  had  then  returned 
from  Martinique,  where  he  had  captured  many  French  and  Spanish  prizes  with  his 
squadron  of  sixteen  sailing  craft.  These  were  sold  for  him  by  Stephen  De  Lancey 
&  Co.,  and  netted  him  a  considerable  fortune,  and  it  is  said  that  he  bought  his 
Greenwich  farm  of  three  hundred  acres  with  a  part  of  the  money.  At  any  rate, 
the  rise  of  Greenwich  is  attributed  to  Sir  Peter,  who  married  the  daughter  of  his 
sales  agent,  Susannah  De  Lancey.  Abingdon  Square,  with  its  little  park,  is  a  me- 
mento of  the  Warren  farm,  the  oldest  of  Sir  Peter's  three  daughters  having  mar- 
ried the  Earl  of  Abingdon  for  whom  the  Square  is  named.  Abijah  Hammond  be- 
came the  owner  of  the  farm  after  the  death  of  the  vice-admiral,  and  in  1819  Mr. 
Van  Nest  purchased  from  him  the  mansion,  with  the  square  bounded  by  Fourth, 
Bleecker,  Perry  and  Charles  Streets.  In  1865  the  house  was  torn  down,  and  most 
of  the  present  houses  were  erected  on  its  site. 

No  more  bewildering  confusion  of  street  formation  exists  anywhere  than  in 
this  section  of  the  city,  where  was  once  old  Greenwich.  An  example  is  Fourth 
Street,  which  crosses  Tenth,  Eleventh  and  Twelfth  Streets  at  very  nearly  right 
angles.  Other  streets  start  all  right,  run  for  a  block  or  two  with  regularity,  and 
then  take  unreasonable  turns,  or  else  bring  one  up  before  a  brick  wall.  This  condi- 
tion may  be  attributed  to  the  fantastic  ideas  of  the  owners  of  land  in  that  section 
in  the  early  period  of  the  city's  growth.  When  a  short  cut  from  one  place  to 
another  was  desired  they  cut  a  lane,  and  perhaps  another  to  some  part  of  the  farm 
land,  leaving,  with  what  improved  conditions  the  city  has  made  in  street-making 
there,  a  tangled  network  of  the  old  and  the  new  that  will  not  assimilate. 

Greenwich  Road  followed  the  line  of  the  present  Greenwich  Street,  along  the 
shore  front,  and  led  to  Greenwich  Village.  While  in  dry  weather  most  of  the 
route  was  good  ground,  in  wet  weather,  especially  in  the  region  of  the  Lispenard 
salt  meadows,  which  then  lay  north  and  south  of  the  present  Canal  Street,  and  of 
the  marshy  valley  of  Minetta  Creek  (about  Charlton  Street),  it  was  difficult  of  ac- 
cess. An  inland  road  was  therefore  approved  in  1768  from  the  Post  Road  (the 
present  Bowery)  to  what  is  now  Astor  Place,  then  to  Waverly  Place,  then  to 
Greenwich  Avenue.  Two  sections  of  this  road  exist  to-day:  Astor  Place,  and 
Greenwich  Avenue  between  Eighth  and  Fourteenth  Streets.  The  rest  is  obliter- 
ated. 

The  open  space  at  Astor  Place  is  a  part  of  the  road  to  Greenwich  known 
as  Monument  Lane,  or  "road  to  the  Obelisk,"  because  at  its  northern  extremity, 


[112] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H    C  BROWN 


glair  Attest  anb       lattprij,  1B20 


THE  HOUSES  IN  THE  FOREGROUND  WERE  THE  RESIDENCES  OF  THE 
COLE  FAMILY.  ARCHIBALD  GRACIE.  JONATHAN  OGDEN.  ROBERT 
LIVINGSTON .  DURING  THE  EARLY  PART  OF  THE  LAST  CENTURY 
IN  THE  CORNER  HOUSE  FULTON  MADE  HIS  PRELIMINARY  PLANS 
FOR  THE  FIRST  SUCCESSFUL  STEAMBOAT.  THE  "CLERMONT ."  NO 
SECTION  OF  NEW  YORK  WAS  MORE  ATTRACTIVE  THAN  STATE  STREET. 
COMMANDING.  AS  IT  DID.  A  BEAUTIFUL  VIEW  OF  THE  BAY.  AND  FOR 
A  LONG  TIME  IT  WAS  THE  MOST  FASHIONABLE   REGION    IN  TOWN. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR,  J.  H.  JORDAN. 


Great  Exodus  to  Greenwich 


or  where  is  now  Eighth  Avenue  and  Fifteenth  Street,  General  Wolfe,  the  hero 
of  Quebec,  had  a  memorial  erected  to  him.  The  lane  extended  from  the  Bowery  to 
Washington  Square,  turned  northwest  and  skirted  Greenwich  Village.  At  Jef- 
ferson Market,  where  Greenwich  Avenue  joins  Sixth  Avenue,  the  reader  will 
find  the  last  section  of  the  inland  road. 

No  more  healthful  location  exists  in  New  York  than  what  was  once  the  site 
of  the  village.  The  epidemics  of  virulent  diseases  that  attacked  the  old  city  found 
no  lodgment  in  Greenwich.  This  healthfulness  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  under- 
lying soil  of  the  district  to  a  depth  of  at  least  fifty  feet  is  a  pure  sand,  and  pro- 
vides excellent  natural  drainage. 

Bank  Street  is  reminiscent  of  the  yellow  fever  epidemic  in  1798,  in  that  the 
Bank  of  New  York  and  a  branch  of  the  Bank  of  the  United  States  purchased 
two  plots  of  eight  city  lots  each  in  Greenwich  Village,  far  away  from  the  city 
proper,  to  which  they  could  remove  in  case  of  being  placed  in  danger  of  quaran- 
tine. In  1799  two  houses  were  erected  on  them,  and  in  September  of  the  same  year 
the  banks  were  removed  to  the  village,  and  gave  the  name  to  the  present  street, 
which  was  then  a  lane.  The  year  1822  saw  another  influx  of  population  to 
Greenwich  Village  because  of  its  healthfulness.  "The  town  fairly  exploded  and 
went  flying  beyond  its  borders,  as  though  the  pestilence  had  been  a  burning 
mine.  The  city  presented  the  appearance  of  a  town  besieged.  From  daybreak  till 
night  one  line  of  carts,  containing  merchandise  and  effects,  were  seen  moving 
toward  Greenwich  Village  and  the  upper  parts  of  the  city.  Carriages  and  hacks, 
wagons  and  horsemen,  were  scouring  the  streets  and  filling  the  roads.  Tem- 
porary stores  and  offices  were  erecting.  Even  on  Sunday  carts  were  in  motion, 
and  the  saw  and  hammer  busily  at  work.  Within  a  few  days  thereafter  (Septem- 
ber) the  Custom  House,  the  Post  Office,  the  bank,  the  insurance  offices  and  the 
printers  of  newspapers  located  themselves  in  the  village,  or  in  the  upper  part  of 
Broadway,  where  they  were  free  from  the  impending  danger,  and  these  places 
almost  instantaneously  became  the  seat  of  the  immense  business  usually  carried  on 
in  the  great  metropolis."  This  epidemic  "caused  the  building  up  of  many  streets 
with  numerous  wooden  buildings,  for  the  uses  of  the  merchants,  banks,  offices,  etc." 
An  old  authority  says  that  he  "saw  corn  growing  on  the  present  corner  of  Ham- 
mond (West  Eleventh)  and  Fourth  Streets  on  a  Saturday  morning,  and  on  the 
following  Monday  Sykes  and  Niblo  had  a  house  erected  capable  of  accommodat- 
ing three  hundred  boarders.    Even  the  Brooklyn  ferryboats  ran  up  here  daily." 

Three  remnants  of  Greenwich  Village  are  the  two  old  frame  dwellings  at  the 
southwest  corner  of  Eleventh  Street  and  Sixth  Avenue,  and  the  triangular  grave- 
yard near  the  corner,  the  second  place  of  burial  owned  by  the  Jews  on  the  island. 
When  Eleventh  Street  was  opened  almost  the  whole  of  the  Jewish  burial  ground  was 
swept  away.  The  street  went  directly  across  it,  leaving  only  the  corner  on  its 
south  side  and  a  still  smaller  corner  on  its  north  side. 

A  walk  through  the  heart  of  this  interesting  locality — the  American  quarter, 
from  Fourteenth  Street  down  to  Canal,  west  of  Sixth  Avenue — will  reveal  a 
moral  and  physical  cleanliness  not  found  in  any  other  semi-congested  part  of  New 


[115] 


Thomas  Paine's  Home 


York;  an  individuality  of  the  positive  sort  transmitted  from  generation  to  gener- 
ation; a  picturesqueness  in  its  old  houses,  "standing  squarely  on  their  right  to  be 
individual"  alongside  those  of  modern  times,  and  above  all  else,  a  truly  American 
atmosphere  reminiscent  of  the  town  when  it  was  a  village. 

Elsewhere  in  this  book  we  have  given  an  extended  account  of  Richmond  Hill, 
Aaron  Burr's  home  in  old  Greenwich  Village.  Perhaps  the  next  most  notable 
name  which  would  occur  to  us  would  be  Thomas  Paine,  who  lived  at  58  Grove 
Street,  where  he  wrote  his  famous  pamphlets  "The  Age  of  Reason"  and  "Com- 
monsense."  The  latter  contribution  to  the  then  current  literature  touching  on 
questions  pertaining  to  the  Revolution  did  more  than  all  other  efforts  to  unite  and 
solidify  public  opinion  on  the  question  of  final  separation,  which  up  to  that  time 
had  only  been  considered  by  a  few  of  the  most  virulent  radicals. 

Another  old  landmark  was  the  New  York  University  Building,  where  Theo- 
dore Winthrop  wrote  his  "Cecil  Greene." 

The  Richmond  Hill  Theatre,  Aaron  Burr's  old  home,  was  not  the  only  con- 
tribution to  the  New  York  stage  made  by  Greenwich  Village.  At  Greenwich 
Avenue  and  Twelfth  Street  there  was  the  once  popular  Columbia  Opera  House. 
Polly  Smith,  who  was  known  to  everyone  as  the  village  tomboy,  won  the  Adam 
Forepaugh  prize  of  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  America. 
She  then  changed  her  name  to  Louise  Montague  and  made  a  big  hit  at  Tony 
Pastor's  and  as  the  captain's  daughter  in  "Pinafore."  Leonard  Dare,  a  trapeze  per- 
former, lived  in  Abingdon  Square  before  she  went  to  London  and  married  into  the 
nobility.  Johnny  Hart,  a  famous  old  minstrel,  was  also  a  resident.  His  brother 
Bob  was  the  prize  drinker  of  the  neighborhood,  but  when  he  was  sober  (and 
broke)  he  gave  temperance  lectures  and  passed  the  hat  for  collections. 

There  were  many  other  old  characters  in  the  village  that  can  be  easily  re- 
called— Crazy  Paddy,  who  never  missed  a  fire  and  who  was  a  familiar  figure 
sprinting  down  the  street  in  front  of  the  "Department";  Johnny  Lookup,  who  had 
an  uncontrollable  penchant  for  attending  funerals  and  considered  it  his  bounden 
duty  to  accompany  the  remains  of  any  villager  to  its  last  resting  place.  Then 
there  was  Susy  Walsh,  the  school  teacher,  who  was  so  pretty  that  all  the  boys 
hung  around  her  desk  waiting  for  the  chance  to  carry  her  books  home. 

Old-timers  recollect  the  Jefferson  Market  Bell  Tower  and  the  bell  they  used 
to  ring  for  fires ;  all  had  a  book  that  gave  the  location  of  the  fire  as  indicated  by  the 
strokes  of  the  bell,  and  all  would  run  with  the  machine.  Then  there  was  the  old 
slaughter-house  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Bank  and  Hudson'  Streets,  where  the 
boys  used  to  look  over  the  old-fashioned  half  door  and  see  them  hoist  up  the 
beeves  with  block  and  fall,  and  hit  them  in  the  head  with  an  axe.  Directly  oppo- 
site on  the  northwest  corner  was  the  old  Village  House  where  the  "boys"  used  to  play 
billiards,  drink  "Tom  &  Jerrys"  and  swap  stories. 

West  Tenth  Street  was  called  Amos  Street,  and  where  the  brewery  now  is,  be- 
tween Greenwich  and  Washington  Streets,  stood  the  old  state  prison  where  many 
were  hanged.  In  the  ice  house  of  Beadleston  &  Woerz's  they  still  point  out  the  old 
beam  used  for  this  function  of  the  law.    West  Eleventh  Street  was  called  Ham- 


[116] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H.  C.  BROWN. 


3FtftI|  AupnitP  i^otrl.  1350 


THE  ONLY  KNOWN  COPY  OF  BURFORD  S  LITHOGRAPH  OF  THIS 
FAMOUS  HOSTELRY  ISSUED  AT  ITS  OPENING.  CONSIDERABLE 
ARTISTIC  LICENSE  IS  SHOWN  IN  THE  VASTCROWDS  IN  THE  PICTURE. 
AS  THE  LOCATION  AT  THAT  TIME  WAS  SO  FAR  UPTOWN  AS  TO  BE 
ALMOST  IN  THE  COUNTRY.  NEVERTHELESS.  THE  SCENE  IS  CHARAC- 
TERISTIC. AND  THE  VARIOUS  COSTUMES.  VEHICLES.  ETC..  ARE  COR- 
RECT. IT  WAS  THE  FIRST  BUILDING  IN  WHICH  AN  ELEVATOR  WAS 
INSTALLED.  NOTICE  THE  TREES  AND  PRIVATE  HOUSES  STILL 
STANDING  ON  BROADWAY  AS  FAR  UP  AS  34th  STREET. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR    PERCY    R.  PYNE.  2ND. 


"Wes"  Jacobus  and  John  Huyler 


mond  Street,  and  what  is  now  Fourth  Street  Park,  at  the  end  of  Fifth  Avenue, 
was  the  old  Washington  Parade  Ground,  where  all  the  troops  drilled  and  paraded 
to  their  hearts'  content.  The  grounds  were  surrounded  by  a  high  iron  railing  and 
there  were  large  iron  gates  which  were  opened  for  the  entrance  of  the  troops  and 
closed  to  keep  the  crowds  out  while  the  regiments  were  parading. 

Delamater's  iron  works  and  foundry  were  at  the  foot  of  West  Thirteenth 
Street,  where  the  boys  used  to  dive  off  the  big  derrick  into  the  clean  water  of  the 
Hudson — not  dirty  as  it  is  now.  The  old  Hudson  Street  burying  grounds  (St. 
John's)  were  at  Leroy,  Clarkson,  Hudson  and  Carmine  Streets,  and  at  one  end 
Avas  the  caretaker's  old-fashioned  house,  who  cultivated  quite  a  large  farm  on  the 
unused  portion  of  the  cemetery.  It  is  now  called  Skelly's  Grove  on  account  of  the 
tough  characters  that  infest  the  vicinity.  The  old  marble  yard,  where  they  cut 
huge  blocks  of  marble  with  swing  saws,  was  on  Bank  Street  between  Hudson  and 
Bleecker  Streets. 

The  different  social  clubs  held  their  receptions  and  dances,  and  the  politicians 
in  turn  held  forth  in  the  old  Bleecker  building,  situated  in  Bleecker  Street.  In  this 
hall  Frederick  House,  now  Judge  House,  was  nominated  for  the  Assembly,  and 
John  W.  Jacobus — "Wes"  Jacobus — formerly  Alderman  of  the  Ward  and  leader 
of  the  district,  later  U.  S.  Marshal,  held  forth  as  boss  of  the  political  meetings. 
Other  unique  features  of  interest  were  the  Tough  Club,  the  oyster  boats  at  the  foot 
of  Tenth  Street,  Jackson  Square  and  Tin  Can  Alley.  In  his  father's  bakery  at  the 
corner  of  Jane  Street  and  Eighth  Avenue  John  Huyler,  of  Huyler's  candy  fame, 
started  his  fortune.  In  connection  with  the  bread  business  they  started  making  old- 
fashioned  molasses  candy,  and  from  that  modest  beginning  sprang  the  immense 
present  candy  enterprise.  The  bakery  is  still  standing.  A  curious  feature  of  the 
village  is  the  Northern  Dispensary,  which  occupies  a  whole  block.  The  block  is 
triangular  in  shape  and  is  about  eighteen  or  twenty  feet  on  each  side.  It  is 
bounded  by  a  small  park,  by  Christopher  Street  and  by  Waverly  Place  on  the  other 
two  sides.  It  may  seem  strange  that  this  building  is  bounded  on  two  sides  by 
Waverly  Place,  yet  such  is  the  case,  Waverly  Place  being  a  street  with  three  ends. 
Gay  Street  is  also  located  in  the  Ninth  Ward. 


[119] 


JENNY  LIND  AND  THE  GREAT  P.  T.  BARNUM 


There  have  been  famous  entertainments  in  New  York,  but  for  lasting  renown 
and  world-wide  notoriety  the  appearance  of  Jenny  Lind  at  the  Castle  Garden  in 
1853  still  shines  as  the  one  particular  star  in  all  the  firmament  of  dramatic  and 
musical  annals  during  the  Nineteenth  Century.  Mr.  Barnum  was  conceded  to  be 
easily  the  most  adroit  advertiser  the  world  had  ever  known,  but  to  have  his  achieve- 
ments still  talked  of  three-quarters  of  a  century  later  is  certainly  something  of 
which  to  boast. 

Nevertheless  the  tour  in  question  would  be  considered  a  notable  success  even 
in  these  times.  Here  are  the  receipts  for  the  tour,  excluding  those  for  charity, 
which  numbered  twelve.  The  total  number  of  concerts  was  ninety-five,  and  the 
gross  receipts  were  $712,161.24.  As  the  average  receipts  were  over  $10,000  per 
concert  (and  more  in  case  of  charity),  the  total  money  receipts  were  not  far 
from  $850,000.  This  for  a  tour  lasting  less  than  a  hundred  nights  is  rather 
impressive.  Nineteen  cities  were  visited,  but  strange  to  say  Chicago,  Cleveland 
and  a  score  of  well-known  places  were  not  represented,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  at  that  time  they  were  not  of  sufficient  size  to  warrant  a  visit.  Havana,  Rich- 
mond and  Charleston,  however,  loomed  large  in  the  receipts. 

Castle  Garden,  where  the  first  concert  was  held,  was  perhaps  the  most  desir- 
able auditorium  that  could  have  been  found.  For  many  years  the  Battery  was 
the  sea-breathing  spot  of  the  city  and  in  proportion  to  the  population  it  was  much 
more  frequented  than  is  Central  Park  at  the  present  time. 

Philip  Hone's  "Diary"  describes  Castle  Garden  as  "the  most  splendid  and 
largest  theatre  I  ever  saw — a  place  capable  of  seating  comfortably  six  or  eight 
thousand  persons.  The  pit  or  area  of  the  pavilion  is  provided  with  some  hundred 
small,  white  tables  and  movable  chairs,  by  which  people  are  enabled  to  congregate 
into  little  squads,  and  take  their  ices  between  the  acts.  In  front  of  the  stage  is  a 
beautiful  fountain,  which  plays  when  the  performers  do  not." 

Castle  Garden  was  originally  erected  as  a  fortification  during  the  War  of  1812. 
It  was  named  Fort  Clinton.  It  was  not  connected  with  the  mainland,  being  reached 
by  a  bridge  about  200  feet  in  length.  In  1822  the  Federal  Government  ceded  it 
back  to  the  city,  when  it  was  renamed  Castle  Garden.  For  a  long  time  it  was  the 
most  noted  amusement  resort  in  the  country.  Then  it  became  a  landing  place  for 
emigrants,  and  finally  the  site  of  the  Aquarium,  one  of  the  noblest  buildings  in  our 
city  and  one  of  the  most  deservedly  popular.  It  was  about  1866  that  the  interven- 
ing space  was  finally  filled  in  and  the  Castle  joined  to  the  mainland. 

It  is  still  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  our  city,  and  presents  a  view  of 
ever-moving  marine  life  seen  nowhere  else  in  the  world. 


[  120  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H    C  BROWN 


©In  JhiHt  ©ffirr  tit  Nassau  g>trrrt 


ANOTHER  PARTICULARLY  INTERESTING  VIEW  OF  THE  OLD  MIDDLE 
DUTCH  CHURCH,  AS  IT  ALSO  SHOWS  THE  OFFICES  OF  F.  S.  WINSTON 
a  CO..  IN  CEDAR  STREET.  DIRECTLY  OPPOSITE.  MR.  FREDERICK  S. 
WINSTON.  OF  THIS  FIRM.  SUBSEQUENTLY  BECAME  PRESIDENT  OF 
THE  MUTUAL  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPANY.  WHOSE  MASSIVE  BUILD- 
ING NOW  COVERS  THE  SITE  OF  THE  OLD  CHURCH.  A  DELIVERY 
WAGON  OF  LIVINGSTON  WELLS  &  COMPANY  S  EXPRESS  IS  SHOWN 
IN  THE  FOREGROUND.  THE  DRIVER  WEARS  A  SILK  TOPPER."  AS  DO 
THE  GENTLEMEN  IN  THE  TWO-WHEELER. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR.  C.  OWEN  WINSTON. 


RICHMOND  HILL 


HOME  OF  AARON  BURR 

On  the  block  between  Varick  and  Charlton  Streets  in  the  early  part  of  the 
last  century  there  stood  a  quaint  old-fashioned  tree-embowered  mansion,  around 
which  clusters  more  of  delightful  romance  and  heart-breaking  tragedy  than  has 
fallen  to  the  lot  of  almost  any  other  house  in  old  New  York.  This  was  the  home 
of  Aaron  Burr,  a  dashing  officer  in  the  Revolutionary  War,  Senator  of  the 
United  States,  and  Vice-President. 

Burr  came  of  distinguished  ancestry,  his  father  and  grandfather  being  presi- 
dents of  Princeton  College.  At  nineteen  he  was  side  by  side  with  Montgomery 
at  the  storming  of  Quebec  and  bore  the  body  of  the  dead  General  from  the  field 
at  the  risk  of  his  own  life.  Quarrelling  with  Arnold,  whom  he  accused  of  in- 
competency, he  returned  to  New  York  and  joined  the  staff  of  Washington. 
When  the  British  descended  upon  New  York  and  General  Knox's  brigade  was 
apparently  surrounded,  it  was  Burr  who  led  it  in  safety  to  the  main  body  in 
Harlem.  He  commanded  a  brigade  at  the  Battle  of  Monmouth,  routed  the 
enemy  at  Hackensack  and  performed  heroic  service  at  Valley  Forge  during  that 
terrible  winter.  A  serious  sickness  that  completely  prostrated  him  led  to  his  re- 
tirement from  active  service  in  1779. 

His  home  life  was  ideal.  His  wife  died  early,  leaving  an  only  daughter, 
Theodosia,  whom  he  regarded  with  almost  idolatrous  affection.  His  commanding 
talents  soon  placed  him  at  the  head  of  his  profession  and  his  income  was  re- 
garded as  stupendous  for  the  times.  His  party  had  showered  many  civic  honors 
upon  him  and  the  Presidency  seemed  easily  within  reach.  Such  was  the  enviable 
position  of  the  Master  of  Richmond  Hill  on  that  terrible  morning  of  his  duel  with 
Hamilton  in  1804. 

After  the  fatal  meeting  at  Weehawken,  Burr  returned  to  his  home  to  partake 
of  breakfast.  He  greeted  cordially  a  favorite  nephew  who  had  come  to  visit  him 
from  Canada,  and  chatted  gaily  with  him  on  topics  of  the  day.  By  no  word  or 
action  did  he  betray  the  exciting  incidents  of  a  few  hours  previous  and  the  young 
man  proceeded  downtown  entirely  ignorant  of  the  frightful  calamity  that  had  en- 
gulfed his  beloved  uncle. 

Hardly  had  he  reached  the  business  section  ere  he  noted  groups  of  excited 
men  gathered  here  and  there.  Broadsides  rapidly  appeared  on  walls  and  windows 
and  news  of  the  fatal  duel  travelled  like  wildfire.  The  scene  was  dramatic  in  the 
extreme — Hamilton,  Washington's  most  trusted  friend,  Hamilton,  the  framer  of 
the  Constitution,  the  genius  of  the  Revolution,  lay  dead,  the  victim  of  an  assas- 
sin's bullet.  No  such  outburst  of  outraged  public  feeling  had  ever  before  been 
witnessed.    And  as  the  news  spread,  the  excitment  increased.    Business  was 


[123] 


Startling  Effect  of  the  Duel 


suspended  and  for  days  nothing  was  talked  of  but  the  duel.  The  whole  city  took 
part  in  Hamilton's  funeral  and  the  death  of  no  other  man  of  that  period  except 
Washington  called  forth  such  expressions  of  profound  sorrow. 

Duelling  was  common  in  those  days  and  no  one  was  more  greatly  surprised  at 
the  sudden  change  in  the  public  opinion  regarding  it  than  was  Burr  himself.  In 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  he  saw  himself  torn  from  his  proud  position,  stripped  of  his 
fortune  and  denounced  as  a  cowardly  murderer.  In  a  few  days  he  was  indicted 
for  that  crime  and  that  same  evening  under  cover  of  darkness  entered  a  barge  at 
Richmond  Hill,  which  bordered  the  river,  and  escaped.  Of  the  series  of  calami- 
ties which  pursued  Burr  to  the  end  of  his  long  life  and  his  death  in  poverty  and 
misery  on  Staten  Island  we  need  not  here  speak.  The  dreadful  fate  that  befell 
his  beloved  Theodosia  alone  would  seem  atonement  for  all  his  sins.  The  vessel  on 
which  she  sailed  from  Carolina  after  a  visit  to  her  husband's  people  was  wrecked 
and  she  fell  into  the  hands  of  pirates;  her  end  can  better  be  imagined  than 
described. 

Before  Burr's  possession  of  Richmond  Hill,  it  had  been  the  scene  of  many 
notable  gatherings.  Built  by  Paymaster  General  Mortier  of  the  British  Army,  it 
was  the  scene  of  may  brilliant  gatherings  during  the  British  occupancy.  It  was 
the  headquarters  of  General  Washington  in  1776  and  Vice-President  Adams  lived 
there  in  1788.  It  was  frequently  the  scene  of  lavish  hospitality  and  the  most  dis- 
tinguished men  from  all  lands  were  among  its  guests.  Talleyrand  spent  many  a 
quiet  hour  idly  turning  over  the  pages  of  a  favorite  book  and  more  than  one 
volume  was  afterwards  discovered  with  his  annotations  and  initials  on  the  margin 
of  the  pages.  Like  its  last  possessor,  it  was  doomed  to  fall  from  its  high  estate, 
and  many  an  old  New  Yorker,  viewing  the  degradation  of  its  later  days,  was  glad 
when  the  encroachments  of  business  finally  compelled  its  demolition. 

Its  downward  career  began  by  its  conversion  into  a  theatre  known  as  the 
"Richmond  Hill  Theatre."  Thomas  Apthorpe  Cooper,  the  tragedian,  was  in  the 
opening  company.  The  first  of  the  Hollands,  the  first  of  the  Thornes  and  the 
first  of  the  Mestayers,  all  famous  theatrical  names,  were  in  the  company;  also, 
no  less  a  poet  than  Fitz  Greene  Halleck  wrote  the  dedicatory  address. 

A  circus  troupe  played  there  briefly  in  1832.  Then  came  Italian  opera,  the 
director  being  Antonio  Bagioli.  In  1836  its  name  was  changed  and  it  became 
Miss  Nelson's  Theatre.  Miss  Nelson  was  at  that  time  Mrs.  John  Brougham  in 
private  life.  In  1840  it  passed  through  a  short  spell  of  bad  luck  as  Tivoli  Garden, 
with  concerts,  etc.  In  1843  it  passed  under  the  control  of  the  indefatigable  but 
not  always  successful  Tom  Flynn,  who  called  it  the  National  Theatre.  Still  the 
hoodoo  clung,  and  in  1846  it  was  rebuilt  and  opened  as  the  New  Greenwich 
Theatre,  with  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  as  the  initial  play,  Mrs.  W.  W.  Crisp  appear- 
ing as  Juliet.  This  lady's  husband,  then  an  excellent  orator,  was  later  destined 
to  display  his  fine  oratory  in  Congress  and  was  Speaker  of  the  House  for  a  time. 

In  1847  still  another  change  of  name  was  made,  this  time  to  the  New  York 
Opera  House,  and  in  1848  its  doors  closed  for  good  until  the  building  was 
demolished. 


[124] 


(HurtouB  Urtligr  at  Sina&iuaii  aitii  Suiltuu  S>lrrrt,  IBDH 


THIS  STRUCTURE  WAS  ERECTED  TO  RELIEVE  CONGESTION  OF 
TRAFFIC  AT  THIS  BUSY  CORNER  AND  WAS  KNOWN  AS  THE  LOEW 
BRIDGE  EVERY  FEW  MINUTES  A  PHOTOGRAPHER  WOULD  BLOW 
A  FISH  HORN  AND  RING  A  HUGE  BELL  PEOPLE  WOULD  NATURALLY 
STOP  AND  HE  WOULD  THEN  TAKE  THEIR  PHOTOGRAPHS. 
KNOX.  THE  HATTER  DID  NOT  LIKE  THE  BRIDGE  AND  COMPELLED 
ITS  REMOVAL  A  SHORT  TIME  AFTER  ITS  ERECTION. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  COL.  E.  M  KNOX 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON 


Some  five  miles  north  of  Varick  Street  still  stands  a  stately  Colonial  man- 
sion on  Washington  Heights  from  which,  in  days  gone  by,  could  be  seen  an 
entrancing  view  of  the  solemn  Palisades  on  the  west,  the  rolling  hills  of  West- 
chester to  the  north  and  the  blue  waters  of  the  ocean  to  the  east.  A  short  dis- 
tance from  the  house  stood  a  picturesque  group  of  trees — one  for  each  of  the 
original  States,  and  they  stood  in  the  grounds  of  "The  Grange,"  the  home  of 
Alexander  Hamilton,  one  of  New  York's  most  illustrious  sons. 

Of  all  the  men  who  rendered  service  to  the  cause  of  Independence,  Wash- 
ington alone  excepted,  Alexander  Hamilton  easily  came  first.  His  remarkable 
achievements  in  the  field  were  no  less  conspicuous  than  his  subsequent  brilliant 
administration  of  affairs  of  state,  and  the  country  owes  him  an  unending  debt 
of  gratitude  for  his  part  in  framing  the  Constitution  and  establishing  the  public 
credit. 

We  have  already  alluded  to  the  frightful  consequences  which  Burr  suffered 
as  a  result  of  the  duel.  The  same  blight  to  a  certain  extent  fell  also  across  the 
fair  acres  of  "The  Grange."  Hamilton  left  a  large  family  of  young  children,  a 
wife  whom  he  had  married  after  a  most  romantic  courtship  and  between  whom 
there  existed  the  most  tender  affection.  He  was  at  the  very  zenith  of  his  career 
at  the  time  of  the  fatal  meeting,  being  less  than  forty-seven.  The  death  of  Wash- 
ington had  left  him  easily  the  foremost  citizen  of  the  Republic  and  his  wonderful 
genius  as  a  statesman  and  financier  gave  promise  of  a  future  that  would  dim  even 
the  brilliancy  of  the  past. 

The  duel  put  an  end  to  all  that.  Not  only  did  the  city  lose  its  most  illustri- 
ous citizen  but  the  country  at  large  its  most  able  counsellor.  His  beautiful 
widow  survived  him  nearly  half  a  century,  though  her  life  was  at  an  end  when 
she  crossed  the  threshold  of  William  Bayard's  home,  whither  he  had  been  carried 
from  the  scene  of  conflict,  and  gazed  upon  him  for  the  last  time. 

Hamilton  was  buried  with  every  pomp  and  circumstance  which  the  city 
could  bestow,  and  his  remains  rest  in  the  churchyard  of  old  Trinity.  "The 
Grange"  is  still  standing  but  the  broad  acres  of  old  are  cut  up  into  streets  and 
covered  with  apartment  houses.  The  memorial  trees  are  fast  disappearing  and 
will  soon  all  be  gone.  The  Bayard  house  at  82  Jane  Street  in  old  Greenwich 
Village  stood  till  early  in  1890. 


[127] 


ELLIS  ISLAND  A  POWDER  MAGAZINE  AS  LATE  AS  FORTY 

YEARS  AGO 

The  magnificent  structures  on  Ellis  Island  to-day,  through  which  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  emigrants  of  all  nations  pass  every  month,  bear  small  resemblance 
to  the  location  in  1868.  That  is  not  so  very  long  ago,  but  at  that  time  Castle 
Garden  was  supposed  to  be  adequate  for  the  handling  of  this  business,  and  Ellis 
Island  was  occupied  as  a  storage  point  for  powder.  The  proximity  of  this  station 
with  its  direful  possibilities  was  constantly  the  theme  of  complaints  to  the  daily 
papers,  and  the  following  article  from  Harper's  Weekly  accurately  reflects  the 
attitude  of  the  public  mind  toward  this  situation: 

The  New  York  Sun  lately  called  attention  to  the  startling  fact  that  New  York,  Brook- 
lyn, Jersey  City,  and  the  numerous  villages  on  Staten  Island,  are  now,  and  have  been  for 
a  long  time,  in  imminent  peril  of  being  at  once  destroyed  by  the  explosions  of  the  magazines 
on  Ellis's  Island,  which  lies  in  New  York  Harbor,  about  half-way  between  the  Battery  and 
the  New  Jersey  shore.  We  have  had  a  sketch  made  of  the  Island,  and  after  some  inquiries 
into  the  facts  in  the  case,  find  that  the  fears  of  the  Sun  are  well  founded;  the  million  and  a 
half  of  people  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  the  City  Hall  of  New  York  are  daily  and  hourly  in 
imminent  danger  of  being  blown  into  atoms ! 

For  more  than  forty  years  Ellis's  Island  has  been  a  fortified  post  and  magazine  of  the 
Government.  Fort  Gibson,  which  is  situated  on  it,  is  one  of  the  last  of  the  chain  of  defenses 
of  the  harbor,  and  mounts  twelve  forty-two-pounder  guns.  The  magazine  buildings,  six  in 
number,  are  built  of  solid  masonry  with  slate  roofs.  The  capacity  of  the  buildings  admits 
of  the  storage  of  5000  barrels  or  at  least  1000  tons  of  powder.  There  are  at  this  time 
stored  on  the  Island  about  3000  barrels  and  a  very  large  number  of  shells ;  while  in  the 
vicinity  and  even  nearer  to  Jersey  City  (in  fact,  within  a  few  rods  of  the  Depot  of  the  Jersey 
Central  Railroad)  are  the  powder-boats  of  Messrs.  Smith  &  Rand,  Dupont,  and  Hazzard, 
usually  containing  at  least  5000  barrels,  or  more  than  1000  tons.  Thus,  on  the  Island  and 
in  its  immediate  vicinity  are  stored  at  least  1500  tons  of  powder! 

It  has  been  clearly  demonstrated  b'y  a  simple  arithmetical  calculation,  based  on  actual 
experiments,  that  the  gas  generated  by  the  sudden  combustion  of  1500  tons  of  powder  would 
exert,  at  a  distance  of  eight  miles,  a  pressure  of  200  pounds  to  the  square  yard.  Within 
eight  miles  of  Ellis's  Island  lies  all  of  Jersey  City,  all  of  Brooklyn,  and  all  of  the  populous 
part  of  New  York  below  Central  Park.  Every  building  in  either  of  these  cities  has  a  front- 
age of  at  least  150  square  yards,  and  would,  therefore,  in  case  of  an  explosion,  receive  a  sudden 
shock  of  30,000  pounds,  before  which  the  stoutest  wall  would  instantly  give  way. 

.  .  .  There  is  not  the  slightest  necessity  for  accumulating  this  amount  of  powder 
in  such  close  proximity  to  the  most  populous  city  in  the  country;  and  safety  imperatively 
demands  that  Mr.  Gideon  Welles,  of  the  Navy  Department,  familiarly  called  "Father  Welles," 
by  whose  authority  the  powder  is  there,  shall  awake  to  the  danger,  and  at  once  remove  the 
combustible  article  from  our  doors. 


[128] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN 


THIS  SHOWS  THE  FAMOUS  JEFFERSON  MARKET  AND  ONE  OF  THE 
MANY  BELL  TOWERS  SCATTERED  THROUGHOUT  THE  CITY.  WHICH 
RANG  THE  ALARM  FOR  VOLUNTEER  FIREMEN.  AND  ALSO  GIVES  A 
GOOD  VIEW  OF  LOWER  SIXTH  AVENUE  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT  OF 
THE  ELEVATED  RAILROAD,  AND  A  GENERAL  IDEA  OF  OLD  GREEN- 
WICH VILLAGE. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION    OF  MR.  E.  H .  SAUER. 


BEGINNINGS  OF  CENTRAL  PARK 

Washington  Irving,  William  Cullen  Bryant,  Olmstead  and  Vaux  Early  Figures 

Andrew  J.  Downing,  in  letters  to  the  Horticulturist  in  the  autumn  of  1855, 
pointed  out  the  lack  of  open  public  spaces  and  places  for  common  recreation  in 
New  York,  and  urged  the  necessity  of  providing  for  a  Great  Park.  This  was  the 
actual  beginning  of  Central  Park,  the  birth  of  the  idea,  and  Downing  should  be 
forever  remembered  with  gratitude. 

The  commission  was  aided  by  an  advisory  park  board,  which  included  Wash- 
ington Irving,  as  President,  William  Cullen  Bryant  and  George  Bancroft.  This 
commission  first  met  on  May  29,  1856.  Action  by  the  commission  being  held  to  be 
dilatory,  the  legislature  in  1857  appointed  a  new  board,  which  invited  designs,  and 
in  this  year,  on  April  1,  from  thirty-three  plans  submitted,  that  of  Frederick  L. 
Olmstead  and  Calvert  Vaux  was  approved,  and  the  work  was  begun.  By  the  ori- 
ginal design  the  northern  boundary  of  the  park  was  fixed  at  One  Hundred  and 
Sixth  Street,  but  in  1859  it  was  transferred  to  One  Hundred  and  Tenth  Street. 

There  is  a  prevalent  idea  that  Central  Park  is  an  accidental  work  of  nature, 
whereas  it  is  an  intentional  work  of  art.  Five  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  of 
gunpowder  were  exploded  in  blasting  for  it,  and  should  the  material  carted  in  its 
construction  be  placed  in  the  then  used  one-horse  carts,  and  these  be  placed  in 
procession,  it  would  encircle  the  world  on  its  equator  and  there  would  yet  remain 
six  thousand  miles  of  carts. 

But  these  astonishing  figures  constitute  in  slight  part  the  Park's  claim  to  con- 
sideration. It  is  the  first  landscape  park  ever  created  by  a  municipality  for  the 
benefit  of  the  public;  its  historic  place  in  the  development  of  landscape  art  is  of 
the  greatest  importance,  while  its  wondrous  beauty  is  beyond  praise. 

The  condition  of  the  site  before  park  operations  were  commenced  seems  in- 
credible to  us  of  the  present  day.  They  have  thus  been  described  by  Gen.  Wingate, 
an  eye-witness: 

"For  the  most  part,  it  was  a  succession  of  stone  quarries,  interspersed  with  pestiferous  swamps.  The 
squatter  population  of  5,000  lived  upon  the  city  refuse  drawn  daily  in  dog  carts  to  feed  fowls  and  domestic 
creatures  and  to  supply  the  adjacent  bone-boiling  establishments.  The  locality  swarmed  with  chickens,  geese, 
dogs,  cats,  swine,  horses  and  cows,  which  destroyed  every  bit  of  verdure,  tearing  up  roots  and  soil  until 
the  rocks  were  laid  bare.  There  was  an  air  of  utter  desolation,  made  more  repulsive  by  the  odors  of  de- 
caying refuse.  Gen.  Viele  says  he  was  forced  to  go  armed  when  making  his  surveys,  and  to  carry  an  ample 
stock  of  deodorizers.  In  short,  it  was  a  combination  of  Hell's  Kitchen,  Jackson's  Hollow  and  Barren  Island, 
filled  with  shanties  occupied  by  scowling  slatterns,  ragged,  dirty  children,  drunken,  quarrelling  men  and  in- 
numerable mongrel  dogs  and  yelping  curs  of  low  degree." 

Jones's  Wood,  at  Sixty-fourth  Street,  was  originally  chosen  for  the  site,  but 
later  the  change  was  made  to  the  present  location,  which  was  infinitely  preferable. 

This  was  certainly  not  an  inviting  spot  from  which  to  create  such  a  work  of 
natural  beauty  as  the  Park  now  is. 


[131] 


BEFORE  THE  TAXICAB 


The  chronic  war  between  hackmen  and  fares  waged  as  bitterly  fifty  years 
ago  as  it  does  to-day.  The  rates  of  cabs  were  regulated  then  as  now  by  ordi- 
nances, but  with  this  very  remarkable  and  luminous  difference,  that  where  a  dis- 
agreement arose  between  the  stranger  and  the  driver  as  to  the  distance  traversed, 
the  dispute  was  ordered  "to  be  referred  to  the  street  commissioner,  who  would 
decide."  The  rates  were  as  follows: 

For  taking  a  person  any  distance  not  exceeding  one  mile  $  .25 

For  taking  a  person  any  distance  not  exceeding  one  mile  and  within  the  lamp  and 

watch  district  50 

For  conveying  one  or  more  passengers  around  the  fourth  of  Apthorp's  tour,  with 

the  privilege  of  detaining  the  carriage  two  hours   3.50 

(The  Apthorp  Apartments  now  occupy  the  site  of  the  Apthorp  Mansion.) 

For  conveying  one  or  more  passengers  to  Harlem  and  returning,  with  the  priv- 
ilege of  detaining  the  carriage  two  hours    4.00 

The  above  are  extracts  from  the  Co-operative  laws  of  1839. 

The  "lamp  and  watch  "  district  was  that  part  within  which  the  city  supplied 
lights  and  watchmen  and  extended  to  about  Great  Jones  Street  in  1848. 

It  was  curious  also  to  note  that  in  those  days  the  question  of  more  and  better 
"rapid  transit"  was  continually  to  the  front.  The  local  government  was  bitterly 
assailed  for  its  failure  to  provide  more  streets  and  street  cars  in  the  districts 
north  of  Twenty-third  Street  in  sufficiently  short  time  to  suit  the  real  estate 
speculators  and  dealers.  The  mayor,  of  course,  came  in  for  a  round  share  of  this 
denunciation  and  the  whole  city  government  was  denounced  as  incompetent,  dis- 
honest and  favoring  private  interests.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  practically  the 
same  abuse  is  bestowed  on  the  present  mayor  for  his  failure  to  provide  additional 
subway  lines,  as  were  applied  to  his  predecessors  for  failing  to  provide  additional 
car  lines. 

It  is  also  remarkable  that,  if  you  drew  a  line  thirty  miles  from  the  City 
Hall  in  any  direction  to-day,  the  line  would  still  be  within  shorter  distance  of  that 
locality  than  was  Sixtieth  Street  in  those  days.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  anywhere 
beyond  Twenty-third  Street  took  from  an  hour  and  ten  minutes  to  an  hour  and 
a  half  to  get  downtown.  The  Harlem  boats,  to  which  reference  has  already  been 
made,  were,  however,  an  exception  and  frequently  made  the  trip  within  one  hour. 
In  the  rush  hours,  like  our  present  Subway,  they  were  crowded  to  the  guards, 
frequently  carrying  three  and  four  thousand  passengers  on  a  trip.  The  round 
trip  fare  was  seven  cents.  With  the  opening  of  the  elevated  road  in  the  early 
seventies,  the  usefulness  of  these  boats  was  ended. 


[132] 


3$ix&t  (§f&te  of  tfie  Western  Union  (Trlrgraylj  (So. 

AN  INTERESTING  VIEW/CORNER  OF  WALL  AND  BROAD  STREETS,  DUR- 
ING "BLACK  FRIDAY."  1873.  THE  BUILDING  ON  THE  RIGHT  IS-  THE 
OLD  WILKES  BUILDING.  FIRST  HOME  OF  THE  WESTERN  UNION  COM: 
PA  NY  AFTER  ITS  ORGANIZATION  BY  H I  RAM  SIBLEY  AND  ITS  REMOVAL 
FROM  ROCHESTER  IN  I860.  FOR  MANY  YEARS  IT  WAS  KNOWN  AS 
KIERNAN'S  CORNER/'  AND  HAD  A  LARGE  CLOCK.  IN  THE  SHAPE  OF 
THE  WORLD.  ON  THE  WALL  STREET  SIDE. '  I^Tfe  " 

FftOft  TH€  COLLECTION  OF  MR    WILLIAM   BAVLIS.      5  \  ^ '  JL 


BEFORE  THE  TAXIGAB 


The  chronic  war  between  hackmen  and  fares  waged  as  bitterly  fifty  years 
•fro  as  it  does  to-day.  The  rates  of  cabs  were  regulated  then  as  now  by  ordi- 
nances, but  with  this  very  remarkable  and  luminous  difference,  that  where  a  dis- 
agreement arose  between  the  stranger  and  the  driver  as  to  the  distance  traversed, 
the  dispute  was  ordered  "to  be  referred  to  the  street  commissioner,  who  would 
decide."  The  rates  were  as  follows: 

For  taking  a  person  any  distance  not  exceeding  one  mile   $  £$ 

For  taking  a  person  any  distance  not  exceeding  one  mile  and  cithin  the  lamp  and 
watch  district  

For  conveying  one  or  more  passengers  around  the  fourth  of  Aptfaorp's  tow,  with 

the  privilege  of  detaining  the  carriage  two  hours      3.50 

(The  Apthorp  Apartments  now  occupy  the  site  of  the  Apthory  Mansion.) 

For  conveying  one  or  more  passengers  to  Harl.  m  nnd  return;  .a.  with  the  priv- 
ilege of  detaining  the  carriage  two  hours      4  00 

The  above  are  extracts  from  the  Co-operative  laws  >f  1 839. 

The  "lamp  and  watch  "  district  was  that  part  withn  vhich  the  city  supplied 
lights  and  watchmen  and  extended  to  about  Great  Jones  Mreet  in  1848. 

It  was  curious  also  to  note  that  in  those  days  the  quest.'' mi  of  more  and  better 
"rapid  transit"  was  continually  to  the  front.  The  local  g.n, rnment  was  bitterly 
assailed  for  its  failure  to  provide  more  street*  and  street  cars  in  the  districts 
north  of  Twenty-third  Street  in  sufficienth  short  time  to  suit  the  real  estate 
speculators  and  dealers.    The  mayor,  of  con       .  arne  in  i  mid  share  of  this 

denunciation  and  the  whole  city  government  was  denounced  as  incompetent,  dis- 
honest and  favoring  private  interests.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  practically  the 
same  abuse  is  bestowed  on  the  present  mayor  far  his  failure  to  provide  additional 
subway  lines,  as  were  applied  to  his  predecessors  for  failing  to  provide  additional 
car  lines. 

It  is  also  remarkable  that,  if  you  drew  a  line  thirty  miles  from  the  City 
Hall  in  any  direction  to-day,  the  line  would  st  ill  be  within  shorter  distance  of  that 
locality  than  was  Sixtieth  Street  in  those  days.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  anywhere 
beyond  Twenty-third  Street  took  from  an  hour  and  ten  minutes  to  an  hour  and 
a  half  to  get  downtown.  The  Harlem  boats,  t  >  which  reference  has  already  been 
made,  were,  however,  an  exception  and  frequently  made  the  trip  within  one  hour. 
In  the  rush  hours,  like  our  present  Subway  they  were  -  row-fled  to  the  guards, 
nlD  frf^^^Kaf1'.)*^  passen^  i  trip.    The  round 

aua&il&AMfoB^^M^faffiBteiwaW^T&lm  opening  wi  1  he  elevated  road  in  the  early 


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NEW  YORK  INTRODUCES  BASEBALL  TO  THE  WORLD 
ALSO  STARTS  THE  BEGINNING  OF  ORGANIZED  BASEBALL 

McGraw  and  his  doughty  Champions,  together  with  the  million  or  more  fans 
in  our  city  will  be  glad  to  know  that  little  old  New  York  originated  the  national 
game. 

In  1842  and  '43  a  number  of  gentlemen  used  to  get  together  afternoons  to 
play  baseball,  the  progeny  of  English  rounders  and  American  genius,  on  a  plot 
of  ground  in  Twenty-seventh  Street,  later  occupied  by  the  old  Harlem  Railroad 
depot.  Retreating  before  the  relentless  northward  march  of  the  building  contrac- 
tor, they  moved  up  to  the  north  slope  of  Murray  Hill,  "between  the  railroad  cut 
and  Third  Avenue."  These  informal  meetings  were  so  popular  that  in  the  spring 
of  1845  Alexander  J.  Cartwright,  an  enthusiastic  player,  proposed  organization. 
So  the  famous  old  Knickerbocker  Club  came  into  being.  As  it  was  evident  that  the 
field  on  Murray  Hill  would  not  long  be  available,  a  party  crossed  the  Barclay 
Street  Ferry  and  explored  the  Jersey  country  for  a  playing  ground,  finally  settling 
on  the  "Elysian  Fields,"  scene  of  many  a  spirited  battle. 

The  Knickerbocker  rules  adopted  September  23,  1845,  are  probably  the  first 
official  playing  code  the  national  game  ever  had.  Omitting  clauses  of  club  govern- 
ment, the  actual  laws  of  play  were: 

"The  bases  shall  be  from  'home'  to  second  base,  forty-five  paces;  from  first  to  third  base,  forty-two 
paces,  equidistant.  The  game  to  consist  of  twenty-one  counts,  or  aces  (runs);  but  at  the  conclusion  an  equal 
number  of  hands  (innings  for  each  side)  must  be  played.  The  ball  must  be  pitched  and  not  thrown  for  the 
bat.  A  ball  knocked  out  of  the  field  or  outside  the  range  of  first  or  third  base  is  foul.  Three  balls  being 
struck  at  and  missed,  and  the  last  one  caught  is  a  hand  out;  if  not  caught  is  considered  fair,  and  the  striker 
bound  to  run.  If  a  ball  be  struck  or  tipped,  and  caught  either  flying  or  on  the  first  bound,  it  is  a  hand  out. 
A  player  running  the  bases  shall  be  out  if  the  ball  is  in  the  hands  of  an  adversary  on  the  base  or  if  the 
runner  is  touched  with  it  before  he  makes  his  base;  it  being  understood,  however,  that  in  no  instance  is  a  ball 
to  be  thrown  at  him.  (In  'rounders'  a  runner  was  out  if  hit  with  the  ball  by  a  fielder  or  if  the  ball  was 
thrown  into  the  hole  at  'home'  while  he  was  off  base.)  A  player  running  who  shall  prevent  an  adversary  from 
catching  or  getting  the  ball  before  making  his  base  is  a  hand  out.  Three  hands  out  all  out.  Players  must 
take  their  strikes  in  regular  turn.  (Here  is  the  primeval  expression  for  the  modern  'batting  order'.)  All 
disputes  and  differences  relative  to  the  game  to  be  decided  by  the  umpire,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal. 
No  ace  (score)  or  base  can  be  made  on  a  foul  strike.  A  runner  cannot  be  put  out  in  making  one  base  when 
a  balk  (underfilled)  is  made  by  the  pitcher.  But  one  base  allowed  when  a  ball  bounds  out  of  the  field  when 
struck." 

And  there  is  the  germ  of  that  bulky  and  baffling  volume,  the  twentieth  century 
rule  book.  It  is  primitive  but  understandable.  Most  of  the  essential  details  of 
the  modern  game  are  there,  but  imagine  Mr.  Tyrus  Cobb  claiming  a  "hand"  out 
on  his  catch  of  a  fly  on  the  first  bound,  and  Mr.  F.  Baker's  emotions  on  being- 
told  that  the  ball  he  boosted  out  of  the  grounds  was  a  foul  because  of  the  length 
of  its  flight. 

In  1852  another  club,  the  Gotham,  was  founded,  and  in  rapid  succession  there 
sprang  into  being  those  names  whose  mere  recital  makes  the  oldster  close  his  eyes 


[135] 


NEW  YORK  INTRODUCES  BASEBALL  TO  THE  WORLD 
ALSO  STARTS  THE  BEGINNING  OF  ORGANIZED  BASEBALL 

McGraw  and  his  doughty  Champions,  together  with  the  million  or  more  fans 
in  our  city  will  be  glad  to  know  that  little  old  New  York  originated  the  national 
game. 

In  1842  and  '43  a  number  of  gentlemen  used  to  get  together  afternoons  to 
play  baseball,  the  progeny  of  English  rounders  and  American  genius,  on  a  plot 
of  ground  in  Twenty-seventh  Street,  later  occupied  by  the  old  Harlem  Railroad 
depot.  Retreating  before  the  relentless  northward  march  of  the  building  contrac- 
tor, they  moved  up  to  the  north  slope  of  Murray  Hill,  "between  the  railroad  cut 
and  Third  Avenue."  These  informal  meetings  were  so  popular  that  in  the  spring 
of  1845  Alexander  J.  Cartwright,  an  enthusiastic  player,  proposed  organization. 
So  the  famous  old  Knickerbocker  Club  came  into  being.  As  it  was  evident  that  the 
field  on  Murray  Hill  would  not  long  be  available,  a  party  crossed  the  Barclay 
Street  Ferry  and  explored  the  Jersey  country  for  a  playing  ground,  finally  settling 
on  the  "Elysian  Fields,"  scene  of  many  a  spirited  battle. 

The  Knickerbocker  rules  adopted  September  23,  1845,  are  probably  the  first 
official  playing  code  the  national  game  ever  had.  Omitting  clauses  of  club  govern- 
ment, the  actual  laws  of  play  were: 

"The  bases  shall  be  from  'home'  to  second  base,  forty-five  paces;  from  first  to  third  base,  forty-two 
paces,  equidistant.  The  game  to  consist  of  twenty-one  counts,  or  aces  (runs) ;  but  at  the  conclusion  an  equal 
number  of  hands  (innings  for  each  side)  must  be  played.  The  ball  must  be  pitched  and  not  thrown  for  the 
bat.  A  ball  knocked  out  of  the  field  or  outside  the  range  of  first  or  third  base  is  foul.  Three  balls  being 
struck  at  and  missed,  and  the  last  one  caught  is  a  hand  out;  if  not  caught  is  considered  fair,  and  the  striker 
bound  to  run.  If  a  ball  be  struck  or  tipped,  and  caught  either  flying  or  on  the  first  bound,  it  is  a  hand  out. 
A  player  running  the  bases  shall  be  out  if  the  ball  is  in  the  hands  of  an  adversary  on  the  base  or  if  the 
runner  is  touched  with  it  before  he  makes  his  base;  it  being  understood,  however,  that  in  no  instance  is  a  ball 
to  be  thrown  at  him.  (In  'rounders'  a  runner  was  out  if  hit  with  the  ball  by  a  fielder  or  if  the  ball  was 
thrown  into  the  hole  at  'home'  while  he  was  off  base.)  A  player  running  who  shall  prevent  an  adversary  from 
catching  or  getting  the  ball  before  making  his  base  is  a  hand  out.  Three  hands  out  all  out.  Players  must 
take  their  strikes  in  regular  turn.  (Here  is  the  primeval  expression  for  the  modern  'batting  order'.)  All 
disputes  and  differences  relative  to  the  game  to  be  decided  by  the  umpire,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal. 
No  ace  (score)  or  base  can  be  made  on  a  foul  strike.  A  runner  cannot  be  put  out  in  making  one  base  when 
a  balk  (underlined)  is  made  by  the  pitcher.  But  one  base  allowed  when  a  ball  bounds  out  of  the  field  when 
struck." 

And  there  is  the  germ  of  that  bulky  and  baffling  volume,  the  twentieth  century 
rule  book.  It  is  primitive  but  understandable.  Most  of  the  essential  details  of 
the  modern  game  are  there,  but  imagine  Mr.  Tyrus  Cobb  claiming  a  "hand"  out 
on  his  catch  of  a  fly  on  the  first  bound,  and  Mr.  F.  Baker's  emotions  on  being 
told  that  the  ball  he  boosted  out  of  the  grounds  was  a  foul  because  of  the  length 
of  its  flight. 

In  1852  another  club,  the  Gotham,  was  founded,  and  in  rapid  succession  there 
sprang  into  being  those  names  whose  mere  recital  makes  the  oldster  close  his  eyes 


[135] 


The  Union  Grounds  in  Brooklyn 


in  ecstasy.  Eheu  fug  aces,  how  the  years  do  drop  away!  In  1855  alone  came  the 
Eckfords,  Excelsiors  and  Atlantics  of  Brooklyn,  and  the  Unions  of  Morrisania, 
and  so  mightily  did  the  sport  thrive  and  prosper  that  by  1866  there  were  present 
at  the  tenth  annual  convention  of  the  National  Association  of  Base  Ball  Players, 
held  at  Clinton  Hall,  New  York,  December  12,  representatives  of  202  clubs  and  of 
associations  comprising  an  additional  200  clubs. 

Enterprise,  Resolute,  Eagle  and  Excelsior  were  popular  names.  There  were 
the  Mutuals  of  New  York,  the  Orioles  of  Baltimore.  Philadelphia  had  its  Ath- 
letics, then  as  now  renowned.  New  Jersey  clubs  were  the  Americus  and  Newark 
of  Newark,  Olympic  of  Paterson,  Monmouth  of  Hoboken,  Atlantic  of  Trenton, 
Liberty  of  New  Brunswick,  Champion  of  Jersey  City,  Resolute  of  Elizabeth,  Sea 
Side  of  Long  Branch,  Kearny  of  Rahway.  West  Virginia  had  a  Hunkidori  Club, 
Kansas  a  Frontier,  Oregon  a  Pioneer,  and  Ohio  a  Buckeye  Club. 

Gay,  not  to  say  gaudy,  were  the  uniforms.  The  Knickerbockers  wore  blue 
woollen  "pants,"  white  flannel  shirts  with  narrow  blue  braid,  mohair  caps,  patent 
leather  belts.  Gotham  was  resplendent  in  red,  white  and  blue.  The  Unions 
sported  a  tricolored  web  belt,  the  Eckfords  had  dazzling  red  stars  on  their  white 
headgear. 

And  the  scores!  A  Gotham-Eagle  game  at  "The  Red  House"  in  Harlem 
resulted  in  six  runs  to  two,  a  low- water  mark  from  which  they  ran  all  the  way  to 
such  lopsided  figures  as  the  Philadelphia- Athletics'  114-2  against  the  Jersey  City 
Nationals  and  162-14  against  the  Alerts  of  Danville. 

There  was  no  official  championship  and  the  rules  of  the  national  association, 
organized  in  1858,  did  not  recognize  the  title  of  "champion,"  but  for  several  years 
Gotham  flew  a  proud  pennant  and  for  a  long  period  the  Atlantics  of  Brooklyn 
claimed  first  place  and  displayed  a  "championship"  banner  on  their  clubhouse. 

The  Union  Grounds  in  Brooklyn  (Eastern  District)  and  the  Capitoline 
(Western)  were  the  first  regularly  constituted  ball  fields  at  which  admission  was 
charged.  The  price  for  star  games — as,  for  instance,  the  Mutuals  and  the  Red 
Stockings  (the  Bostons) — was  fifty  cents  for  the  so-called  grandstand  and  twenty- 
five  cents  for  the  bleachers.  After  the  third  inning  the  exit  gates  were  opened  and 
admission  to  the  field  was  only  ten  cents.  The  wooden  fence  which  surrounded  the 
Union  Grounds  had  many  knotholes  and  spaces,  and  all  these  free  points  of  vision 
were  eagerly  seized  upon  by  the  enthusiastic  fans.  Small  boys  sold  water  at  one 
cent  per  glass  to  the  fence  contingent,  who  were  continually  athirst  by  reason  of 
the  fierce  sun  which  beat  down  upon  them. 

The  Wrights,  the  Spauldings  (now  the  great  sporting-goods  men),  Dan 
Brouthers,  Dickey  Pierce,  were  among  the  stars  in  those  days. 


[136] 


ONE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  ENDICOTT  LITHOGRAPHS  OF  A  HOSTELRY 
WELL  KNOWN  AND  LARGELY  PATRONIZED  IN  ITS  DAY 
THIS  VIEW  SHOWS  THE  EAST  SIDE  OF  BROADWAY,  FROM  MAIDEN 
LANE  TO  THE  NORTH  CORNER  OF  JOHN  STREET,  AND  IS  THE  ONLY 
VIEW  WE  HAVE  LEFT  OF  THIS  SECTION  ONLY  ONE  OTHER  PERFECT 
IMPRESSION  IS  KNOWN,  THOMAS  ft  ROE  ARE  GIVEN  AS  THE  PRO- 
PRIETORS 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR-  PERCY    R.  PYNE.  2ND. 


NO  CHRISTMAS  IN  YE  OLDEN  TIME 


In  compiling  this  work,  the  writer  has  met  more  than  one  person  who  com- 
bats the  statement  that  Christmas  as  we  know  it  to-day  was  a  thing  unheard  of 
fifty  or  more  years  ago.  He  has  been  at  considerable  pains  to  investigate  the 
facts  and  is  forced  to  conclude  that  Christmas  in  the  time  of  our  grandfathers 
was  scarcely  observed  at  all.  And  it  was  not  until  the  German  element  of  our 
population  had  increased  so  enormously  that  the  celebration  became  at  all  gen- 
eral. 

On  this  point,  Mr.  Haswell  also  writes: 

"Christmas  was  very  slightly  observed  as  a  general  holiday  at  the  time  of  which  I 
write  (1860)  and  Christmas  shopping  and  Christmas  presents,  except  those  of  'Santa 
Claus'  for  children,  scarcely  existed.  New  Year's  Day  was  the  popular  winter  holiday, 
the  very  old  custom  of  paying  New  Year's  visits  being  universal,  as  indeed  it  continued 
to  be  until  1874." 

A  letter  to  the  Sun  further  corroborates  this  evidence: 

"Mr.  A.  S.  Kirkman  asks  for  confirmation  of  his  recollection  that  on  Christmas  fifty 
years  ago  or  so  the  Protestant  churches,  excepting  the  Episcopalian,  were  closed  and  the 
public  schools  open.  In  regard  to  the  schools  my  memory  does  not  serve  me,  but  I  re- 
call very  distinctly  that  no  services  were  held  on  that  day  in  the  Presbyterian  and  other 
churches  and  that  the  most  of  us  children  received  our  presents  on  New  Year's  Day.  Only 
a  few  days  ago  I  told  my  family  about  this  condition  and  they  could  hardly  realize  it, 
so  much  have  times  changed.  The  prejudice  against  Christmas  under  the  Puritans  of  the  Com- 
monwealth is  well  known.  The  feeling  against  any  Christmas  religious  ceremony  still  exists 
in  Scotland  among  certain  of  the  Presbyterians.  A.  J.  S." 

Other  authorities  bear  out  the  same  contention,  so  it  seems  that  we  shall  have 
to  admit  that  St.  Nicholas  really  made  his  appearance  in  New  York  with  the  ad- 
vent of  the  Germans. 


[139] 


INTERESTING  FORECAST  OF  REAL  ESTATE  VALUES  SIXTY 

YEARS  AGO 


No  subject  is  perhaps  more  interesting  than  the  changes  in  real  estate  values 
in  our  city  during  the  past  half  century.  In  the  extracts  which  follow  we  repro- 
duce some  contributions  addressed  to  the  Evening  Post  in  1858,  '59  and  '60,  by 
a  retired  merchant.  We  have  since  learned  that  he  was  a  leading  authority  in 
his  day.  In  these  letters  the  writer  entertainingly  sets  forth  substantial  reasons 
for  his  faith  in  a  constantly  rising  market.  His  predictions  have  not  only  been 
realized,  but  the  increase  in  some  instances  has  so  far  largely  exceeded  his  modest 
forecasts  as  to  be  almost  laughable.  In  order  to  bring  comparisons  down  to  date, 
we  have  asked  Mr.  Joseph  P.  Day,  the  well-known  real  estate  expert,  to  place  in 
brackets,  against  some  of  the  items,  an  estimate  of  to-day's  values. 

I  wish  to  express  through  your  columns  a  few  predictions  in  regard  to  the  future 
value  of  real  estate  in  the  city  of  New  York,  which  have  been  made  within  the  past 
week,  by  one  whose  judgment  has  for  a  long  period  been  found  by  experience  to  be  more 
reliable  than  that  of  any  other  man  within  the  scope  of  my  acquaintance.  This  person, 
while  he  has  ever  been  much  more  sanguine  in  favor  of  the  constant  advance  in  real 
estate  than  most  other  men,  has  been  found,  in  reviewing  his  opinions  for  the  past  thirty 
years,  far  behind  the  reality.  His  former  opinions  having  been  found  so  reliable  gives 
me  great  confidence  in  his  predictions  for  the  future. 

Fourth.  He  predicts  that  every  lot  fronting  on  the  Central  Park,  25  by  100  feet,  will 
before  1870  bring  $25,000,  as  there  will  be  no  residence  in  the  world  equal  to  it — a  per- 
fect garden  of  750  acres,  elegantly  ornamented  in  part  with  fountains,  flowers,  trees  and 
drives — between  two  great  rivers,  with  Croton  and  gas  in  every  room  and  in  the  centre  of 
one  of  the  greatest  cities  in  the  world. 

Seventh.  He  predicts  that  lots  around  Mount  Morris  Square,  between  Fourth  and 
Sixth  Avenues,  and  One  Hundred  and  Twentieth  and  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-fifth  Streets 
(now  selling  at  say  $700,  and  about  as  dull  sale  as  lots  were  at  the  same  price  in  1825, 
around  Washington  Square,  which  are  now  worth  $8,000),  will  be  more  valuable  in  1870 
than  lots  will  then  be  around  Washington  Square. 

Eighth.  He  predicts  that  men  of  wealth,  from  all  parts  of  the  United  States  and 
Europe,  will  be  drawn  to  New  York,  for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  a  residence  around 
Central  Park. 

September  25th,  1858. 

In  your  valued  paper  of  the  24th  instant,  you  allowed  me  to  insert  the  predictions 
of  an  experienced  man,  regarding  the  future  value  of  real  estate  in  the  city  of  New  York. 

I  now  ask  your  permission  to  give  a  few  of  the  changes  which  have  taken  place  dur- 
ing the  past  thirty  years.  In  a  former  number  I  have  recorded  the  predictions  that  the 
changes  will  be  much  greater  during  the  ten  years  yet  to  come. 


[  140  ] 


:f  A  '_T  1  D  TIAL    'I1  l£t  £  AjP  2S  "Jil 

NEW  YORK. 

®Ijr  Nattmial  ©brato 


THIS  WAS  ONE  OF  THE  MOST  FAMOUS  EARLY  THEATRES  IN  NEW  YORK 
AND  THE  SECOND  ONE  TO  ATTAIN  ANY  PROMINENCE.  "UNCLE  TOM'S 
CABIN  'WAS  PRODUCED  HERE  FOR  THE  FIRSTTIME  IN  ANYTHEATRE. 
WITH  GEORGE  L  FOX  AND  THE  LINGARDS  IN  THE  CAST. 
THE  "J.  W.  WALLACK.  LESSEE/'  WAS  THE  FATHER  OF  OUR  LESTER 
WALLACK.  THE  THEATRE  STOOD  AT  THE  CORN  ER  OF  LEON  A  RD  AN  D 
CHURCH  STREETS  AND  WAS  BURNED.  IT  THEN  RELOCATED  WHERE 
COWPERTHWAIT'S  NOW  IS  AND  WAS  CONVENIENT  TO  THE  THEN 
FASHIONABLE  REGION  OF  PEARL.  CATHARINE.  MARION.  DOVER  AND 
PELL  STREETS. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR   WM    F.  HAVEMEYER. 


Corner  5th  Avenue  and  36th  Street  Sells  for  $2,400  in  1845 


First.  In  1824  St.  Thomas'  Church  purchased  eight  lots  on  the  corner  of  Broadway 
and  Houston  Street,  at  $1,100  each.  The  Vestry  were  unwilling  and  actually  refused 
to  embarrass  the  church  with  such  a  purchase.  Finally,  Messrs.  David  Hadden,  Richard 
Oakley,  and  some  others  of  the  Vestry  gave  their  individual  bond,  as  a  guaranty  to  the 
church,  that  if  she  would  make  the  purchase  the  church  should  sustain  no  loss.  This  secured 
the  lots  to  the  church  at  an  aggregate  cost  of  $8,000 — now  they  are  worth  $250,000. 

Second.  In  1843  lots  on  Fifth  Avenue,  from  Thirty-fifth  to  Fortieth  Street,  could 
be  bought  at  $500  (with  $100  paid  down).  Now  the  same  lots  on  an  average  will  bring 
$10,000,  and  many  of  them  over  $12,000.    [To-day  worth  $35,000  to  $40,000.] 

Third.  In  1845  John  Hunt,  a  millionaire,  purchased  on  the  corner  of  Thirty-sixth 
Street  and  Fifth  Avenue  a  lot  at  $2,400.  Mr.  Hunt  was  deemed  insane,  and  this,  and 
other  similar  purchases,  were  brought  up  in  court  as  evidences  of  his  insanity.  The  same 
lot  is  now  worth  $15,000.    [To-day  worth  $750,000.] 

Fourth.  In  1847  lots  in  Thirty-seventh  and  Thirty-eighth  Streets,  between  Fifth 
and  Sixth  Avenues,  were  purchased  by  ex-Mayor  Brady,  at  corporation  auction  sale,  at 
$300  each.    The  same  lots  are  now  worth  $6,000  each.    [To-day  worth  $85,000  each.] 

Fifth.  In  1826  the  late  Zachariah  Lewis,  Esq.,  purchased  four  lots,  corner  of  Eighth 
Avenue  and  Forty-second  Street,  at  $150  each.  The  same  lots  are  now  worth  $7,500 
each,  having  been  sold  in  1854,  together,  for  over  $31,000.    [Now  worth  $350,000.] 

Sixth.  In  1832  Mr.  J.  M.  Welley  sold  three  lots  on  Forty-seventh  Street,  near 
Third  Avenue,  at  $133  each.    Now  they  are  worth  $2,000  each. 

Seventh.  In  1850  Mr.  C.  O.  Billings  was  offered  by  Mr.  Wm.  Paine  eighteen  lots, 
twenty-five  by  one  hundred  feet,  at  $1,700  each,  viz. :  eight  lots  on  Fifth  Avenue,  and  five 
on  Thirty-sixth  Street,  adjoining — now  worth  $12,000  each.  [Now  worth  $375,000  on  Fifth 
Avenue;  $85,000  on  Thirty-sixth  Street.] 

These  changes  in  the  value  of  property,  so  recently  experienced,  would  have  been  thought 
more  improbable  at  the  time  the  sales  were  made  than  the  predictions  now  are  as  recorded 
in  your  paper  of  the  24th  instant. 

September  27th,  1858. 

Your  courtesy  enabled  me  to  express  in  your  paper  of  September  25th,  some  predic- 
tions regarding  the  immense  rise  in  value  of  real  estate  anticipated  the  next  ten  years ; 
and  in  your  paper  of  September  27th,  I  gave  some  facts  illustrating  the  wonderful  advance 
during  the  past  twenty-five  years.  I  then  mentioned  that  St.  Thomas's  Church,  in  1824, 
bought  lots  corner  of  Broadway  and  Houston  Street,  at  $1,000  each,  now  worth,  say, 
$50,000. 

I  wish  now  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  lot  of  ground,  now  unoccupied,  of  good  grade, 
on  this  island,  between  the  Battery  and  Harlem  River,  and  the  North  and  the  East  Rivers, 
that  is  not  intrinsically  worth  this  day  $1,100,  for  25  by  100  feet,  to  any  man  who  will 
at  once  improve  it — and  can  be  made  at  once  to  pay  six  per  cent,  per  annum  on  that 
sum — and  in  ten  years,  if  the  past  is  any  guide  for  the  future,  any  of  said  lots  will  be 
worth  more  than  twice  that  sum,  and  many  of  them  more  than  $10,000  each. 

In  confirmation  of  this,  there  are  now  thousands  of  families  wanting  a  home  at  $100 
rent  per  annum.  A  two-story  house,  20  by  32  of  brick,  can  be  built  for  $1,400 — lot  $1,100, 
is  $2,500.  Interest  six,  taxes,  etc.,  one,  is  seven  per  cent  on  $2,500,  is  $175  per  annum. 
This  house  will  give  four  good  rooms  on  each  floor  (with  cellar  under  the  whole),  mak- 
ing ample  accommodations  for  two  respectable  families,  with  four  rooms  to  each  family, 


[143] 


Prophetic  Forecast  of  Great  Rise  in  Values 


at  say  $87.50  each  (say  $7  a  month).  The  houses  can  be  placed  on  the  rear  of  the 
lot,  and  will  answer  at  a  future  day  for  extensions  to  larger  houses  to  be  built  in  front, 
in  the  same  way  as  Mr.  S.  B.  Ruggles  built  his  small  houses,  some  of  which  are  now  stand- 
ing as  tea-rooms  on  the  rear  of  the  large  houses  fronting  on  Union  Square.  The  object 
of  Mr.  Ruggles,  in  this  plan,  was  probably  to  keep  down  the  interest  on  the  lots  till 
the  waves  of  population  could  reach  his  property.  This  was  as  late  as  1830.  No  pru- 
dent man  then  believed  that  lots  so  far  out  of  town  would  ever  be  of  much  value.  In- 
deed, the  insurance  companies  were  unwilling  to  loan  much  on  mortgage  above  the  park. 
Mr.  Ruggles  consulted  his  own  judgment — disregarded  the  croakers — and  has  lived  to 
see  that  lots  which  would  not  bring  in  1830  $1,100  are  now  worth  $10,000,  and  soon  are  to  be 
taken  for  stores,  at  over  $20,000. 

That  lots  at  One  Hundredth  Street  will  bring  $1,000  is  not  now  as  improbable  as  it  was 
in  1825  that  lots  around  Union  Square  would  ever  bring  $1,000  at  that  time.  Madison  Square 
was  only  sold  by  the  acre.  It  was  all  hill  and  dale,  bogs  and  swamps ;  nobody  offered  to  sell 
it,  and  no  one  would  hardly  take  it  as  a  gift  comparatively;  now  every  lot  around  it  is  worth, 
on  an  average,  over  $10,000.    [To-day  from  $125,000  to  $175,000.] 

In  1825  the  lots  on  Houston  Street,  in  rear  of  St.  Thomas's  Church,  were  all  inclosed 
in  a  common  coarse  farm  rail  fence,  and  were  let  out  for  cow  pastures.  The  whole  block 
where  the  New  York  Hotel  stands,  on  Broadway  and  Waverly  Place,  as  late  as  1830,  was 
offered  twenty  times,  without  finding  a  buyer,  for  $20,000.  Finally  some  one  agreed  to  buy  it 
at  $20,000,  and  the  owner  got  his  eyes  open  by  degrees,  and  kept  advancing  his  price  $5,000 
at  a  leap,  till  at  last  he  sold  for  $80,000,  and  now  the  land  would,  if  unoccupied,  bring 
$500,000.  All  this  has  been  done  while  our  population  has  been  increasing  from  less  than 
200,000  to  800,000. 

If  the  wave  of  200,000  people  in  ten  to  twenty  years  has  produced  such  results,  what 
will  800,000  produce  in  ten  years  more?  There  is  not  a  man  in  the  city  of  New  York  at  this 
moment  insane  enough  to  dare  to  record  his  opinion  equal  to  what  the  reality  will  be.  The 
able  address  of  Dr.  King,  of  Columbia  College,  at  the  opening  of  the  new  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce, in  August  last,  with  the  addresses  on  that  occasion  from  Messrs.  Griffith,  J.  D.  Ogden, 
C.  A.  Davis,  and  other  gentlemen,  has  opened  to  me  a  train  of  thought  in  relation  to  the  future 
growth  of  New  York,  as  boundless  as  ocean  itself.  I  dare  not  intrude  upon  your  columns 
what  I  feel  and  see.  I  only  give  you  such  predictions  as  the  past  will  sustain.  History  itself 
must  be  doubted  before  these  predictions  can  be  overthrown. 

This  day  I  see  before  me  hundreds  of  men  going  through  Wall  Street,  not  knowing  what 
to  do  with  their  money.  All  property,  they  say,  is  too  high.  So  these  same  men  said  in  1825, 
when  they  could  have  bought  lots  at  $1,000  now  worth  $50,000.  So  they  said  in  1830 — same 
lots  at  $2,000.  So  they  have  continued  to  say  till  at  last  lots  below  Twentieth  Street  are 
higher  in  proportion  than  those  above.  This  is  what  they  have  said.  Now,  what  will  they  say 
during  the  next  ten  years?  Why,  when  they  are  offered  lots  at  $1,000,  they  will  say,  "too 
high" ;  and  so  they  will  continue  to  say  till  they  will  see  the  same  lots  at  $10,000.  This  is 
just  what  they  have  seen,  and  just  what  they  will  see  again. 

I  call  upon  every  capitalist  to  look  into  this  subject,  and  to  benefit  the  poor  while 
he  enriches  himself.  Let  him  buy  lots  and  build  small  houses ;  this  will  aid  the  poor,  and 
give  him  in  ten  years  better  than  an  investment  of  two  per  cent,  per  month,  and  far  more 
safe  and  satisfactory.  Buy  anywhere  on  the  island;  on  any  spot  of  good  grade  a  house 
will  rent  of  the  kind  described.    Look  at  Harlem,  with  30,000  population  above  Yorkville, 


[  144  ] 


COPYRIGHT 


Sitr  nf  &tanJiar&  mi  linking,  1B48 


A  NEW  LIGHT.  * 
f  HXOSENE,  OR  COAL  ML! 


T^HB  IKTKSSWTf  OF  THE  USUI  OB- 

JL  t>ni>pYtto«  tHia  oil.  »iu  h»  loam  »  ni>n  m 

of  aaj  other  oil  or  Uqui4  hora*oft>rt>  known  to  tbe  pablic. 


Thfa  Oil  bein?  a  PUKJI  DISTILLATION   F&OM  COAL, 
♦rilfcowt lb«,adinl*lT« of  BPlBil  d  Or  VU&PUt  1'I.lK  or  ilr 
'    wwianiU  to  ba  not  upkwiro.  INSLTRAjiCJS 
MPAKLE},  allow  tt  to  bo  pal  without  additional  ptomiaaa. 
who  roo"  or  wifto  ncch 


lIIgw  it  to  b«  jped  wtthowl  additional  prominaa,  ' 
tai<  or  wift«  awch  M  fctol't  TllHail  ir  t  rrrnj  -  4 


BOTtLS,  FLIGHT  HOUHBS.tbJo  oil  teas  yet  wajetTulJaw. 
rtbras  brtUiantlj  without  SKQKIXG  or  ^KCbm'G  Uw 
Ue  o^n«oo^o^kr  jKtMBi«,«ad  a  »ot 

rial  Uwotortot  tho 
t  ldtrH*  to  ttt  »««% 
t  a  iifc-W  oqnaj  to  tw¥ 


I  EY  TH*  OOLHBBT  ' 


!I«HtO  to  twafca. 
,  are  reconiniendM  as  Ike  boot « 


iBdefitena*. 

Hot  Jaalldes  of  the  oil,  eaco  lamp  giTio* 
tlx  foot  gas  burners. 

Thl«  oil  can  Uj  u-td  it  CAMPHKKE  and  SYLYIC  OIL 
LAMPS,  odd  Ob  be  ids  pud  10  ChamliBwrw  for  110TKL3. 
COUtTRT  KH»TDRN0K8,  ««d  8TK  AV.KR*.  -LJJPJ. 
Tho  Brawl  alapoaut  to  who  ratio  doaleia. 

.    Ai;«TF.N»,  AS«tl  »r  . 

TlTl?  UOBTH  AJtthlCAN  h.fcR!i»S<E  OOMPAWY, 
Sl-2*  57  STKMBT. 


1^ 


SITE  OF  26  BROADWAY,  AS  A  COAL  AND  WOOD  YARD  IN  1796 
THE  TOWN  RESIDENCE  OF  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON  WAS  HERE.  ON 
THE  LEFT  IS  THE  FIRST  ADVERTISEMENT  OF  KEROSENE  OIL  AS  AN 
ILLUMINANT.  PUBLISHED  IN  1853. 

FROM    THE   COLLECTION   OF    MR    WILLIAM  ROCKEFELLER 


Interesting  Table  of  Values  on  Fifth  Avenue 


between  the  two  rivers,  and  not  a  house  to  be  hired  for  suitable  mechanics,  etc.,  at  such 
rent  as  they  need.  They  have  markets,  schools,  churches,  Croton  and  gas,  but  no  vacant 
houses.    New  manufactories  are  springing  up,  and  the  cry  is,  houses  are  wanted. 

In  1825  the  Erie  Canal  was  finished.  This  gave  the  great  impulse  to  real  estate.  Its 
influence  was  not  fully  felt  till  1830,  after  which  the  Erie  and  Hudson,  and  Albany  rail- 
roads were  finished,  all  of  which  have  increased  the  population  and  benefited  real  estate  holders 
more  than  any  other  class.  Who  can  estimate  how  much  the  value  of  the  fifty  thousand  lots 
on  this  island,  above  Fortieth  Street,  would  be  increased  by  another  Erie  Railroad,  or  any 
other  facility  equal  to  it?  The  average  advantage  would  be  more  than  two  thousand  dol- 
lars a  lot,  which  is  fifty  millions,  and  that  would  build  two  Erie  railroads.  The  owners  of 
real  estate  in  New  York  could  well  have  afforded  to  build  the  Erie  Canal  and  all  the  rail- 
roads entering  the  city — at  an  aggregate  cost  of  one  hundred  millions  of  dollars— twice  over, 
even  if  they  had  never  paid  a  cent  income  over  the  expenses,  and  then  have  been  immense 
gainers  by  the  operation  in  the  rise  of  their  real  estate.  The  owners  of  real  estate  in  this  city 
had  better  contribute  and  pay  all  the  debts  of  the  road  than  to  have  it  stop. 

In  Brooklyn,  the  corporation  have  graded  streets  and  avenues,  and  covered  them  with 
railroads  in  every  direction,  a  mile  ahead  of  the  population.  The  same  corporation  would 
have  had  every  avenue  on  this  island  opened  to  Harlem  River  ten  years  ago.  The  Eighth, 
the  Sixth,  the  Third,  and  the  Second  Avenues  would  then  have  been  finished,  with  railroads 
through  the  island  on  each.  But  the  government  of  New  York — who  can  describe  its  utter 
inefficiency?  Look  at  the  Eighth  Avenue  railroad — there  it  is,  about  where  it  was  five  years 
ago — and  there  it  will  remain,  a  disgrace  to  the  corporation.  Who  can  estimate  how  many 
have  been  driven  from  our  city  by  the  influence  of  bad  government?  All  the  rise  in  real 
estate  has  been  in  spite  of  the  city  government — not  by  their  help.  One  hundred  millions 
would  not  pay  the  damage  which  this  city  has  suffered  the  past  twenty  years  from  bad  gov- 
ernment. 

I  hope  our  worthy  mayor  and  the  common  council  will  not  accept  any  more  dinner  in- 
vitations until  they  get  the  streets  cleaned  and  repaired,  and  the  avenues  graded,  so  that  popu- 
lation may  no  longer  be  driven  from  the  island. 

October  2,  1858. 

I  herewith  submit  a  statement  of  the  value  of  real  estate  on  Fifth  Avenue,  including  one 
mile  on  the  north  side  and  one  mile  on  the  south  side  of  the  Central  Park,  as  confirmed  by 
auction  sales  of  Messrs.  A.  J.  Bleecker  &  Son,  October  12,  1858,  and  by  the  opinions  of  well- 
informed  judges: 

Value  of  Lots  on  Fifth  Avexue. 

At  125th  Street,  $1,000.     [To-day  $20  000.] 
At  124th  Street,  $800.     [To-day  $20,000.] 

On  123d,  122d  and  121st  Streets,  there  are  no  Fifth  Avenue  lots,  as  the  streets  are  all 
included  in  Mount  Morris  Square,  consequently  no  price  is  given. 

At  120th,  119th,  118th  and  117th  Streets,  Fifth  Avenue  lots  between  these  streets  are 
worth  $600  and  corner  lots  $850.    [To-day  $17,500.] 

At  116th  Street — Messrs.  Bleecker  &  Son  sold  corner  116th  Street  and  Fifth  Ave- 
nue at  $1,500 — inside  avenue  lots,  $1,200.  This  street  is  100  feet  wide  and  graded  from 
East  River  to  Eighth  Avenue.  The  street  lots  adjoining  the  Fifth  Avenue  may  be  quoted  at 
$800. 

* 

[147] 


New  York's  Only  Real  Estate  Auctioneer  in  1850 


At  115th,  114th,  113th,  112th,  111th  and  110th  Streets— as  sold  by  Bleecker  &  Son- 
lots  brought  from  $385  to  $525  on  the  streets  adjoining  the  Fifth  Avenue.  On  the  Fifth  Ave- 
nue the  corner  lots  brought,  on  109th  Street  $1,600;  inside  lots,  $1,025.  On  111th,  112th 
and  113th  Streets  the  Fifth  Avenue  corners  sold  at  $1,400,  and  inside  lots  on  the  avenue, 
$1,025  to  $1,115. 

At  109th  Street,  lots  on  the  street  adjoining  Fifth  Avenue  sold  as  low  as  $485  to  $500, 
while  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and  109th  Street  sold  as  high  as  $1,600,  and  the  inside  avenue 
lots  as  low  as  $1,025  and  $1,060. 

At  108th  and  107th  Streets  the  average  was  much  the  same,  excepting  that  the  corner  lots 
sold  as  high  as  $1,650,  and  inside  lots  $1,100  on  the  Fifth  Avenue. 

At  106th  Street — this  is  the  north  boundary  of  the  Central  Park.  No  auction  sales 
on  this  street  have  been  made ;  but  private  offers  are  made,  which  make  it  conclusive  that  lots 
on  this  street  will  bring  to-day  $2,500  and  upwards,  and  the  corners  on  Fifth  Avenue  $2,500 
— provided  the  park  is  not  to  be  extended  to  110th  Street,  which  will  probably  be  done. 

We  now  come  to  Fifty-ninth  Street,  which  is  the  southern  boundary  of  the  Central  Park. 
On  this  street  lots  have  sold  at  $7,000—25  by  100.    [To-day  worth  $125,000  to  $150,000.] 

Lots  on  Fifth  Avenue,  between  Fifty-second  and  Fifty-eighth  Streets,  are  worth,  of  good 
grade,  $5,000.    [To-day  $350,000.] 

Lots  on  Fifth  Avenue,  between  Forty-eighth  and  Fifty-first  Streets,  are  wjrth  $6,000, 
and  on  Forty-seventh  Street,  $7,000 — at  which  sales  have  been  made.    [To-day  $350,000.] 

Lots  on  Fifth  Avenue,  from  Fortieth  to  Forty-sixth  Street,  are  worth  $6,500  to  $7,000 
and  upwards — and  on  Thirty-eighth  and  Thirty-ninth  Streets,  $9,000  and  upwards. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  if  the  Central  Park  is  to  be  the  centre  of  the  city,  there 
must  be  great  changes  in  the  value  of  this  property,  north  and  south  of  the  park. 

The  sale  of  lots,  reported  in  your  paper  of  the  12th  inst.,  made  by  Messrs.  Bleecker  & 
Son,  on  the  Fifth  Avenue,  north  of  the  Central  Park,  is  the  best  auction  sale  yet  made. 
High  as  they  sold,  every  lot  will  probably  bring  more  than  double  within  three  years. 

In  1850,  all  the  lots  on  the  Fifth  Avenue  for  one  mile  south  of  Central  Park  were  worth 
less  on  an  average  than  lots  now  are  worth  on  the  same  avenue  for  one  mile  north  of  the  park. 

Whoever  is  now  unable  to  discover  that  all  the  lots  between  the  park  and  125th  Street, 
and  the  Fifth  and  Eighth  Avenues,  of  good  grade,  will  within  ten  years  be  worth  on  an  aver- 
age $4,000  each,  has  no  conception  of  what  New  York  is,  and  what  she  is  to  be. 

For  example,  lots  on  120th  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,  three-fourths  of  a  mile  above  the 
park,  and  fronting  on  Mount  Morris  Square,  are  valued  at  only  $800;  while  lots  on  Forty- 
third  Street,  about  the  same  distance  below  the  park,  are  worth  $6,000;  and  lots  only  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  above,  on  110th  to  113th  Streets,  between  the  Central  Park  and  Mount 
Morris  Square,  adjoining  the  Fifth  Avenue,  are  selling  from  $385  to  $500;  while  lots  on  Fifty- 
second  Street,  on  the  Fifth  Avenue,  the  same  distance  south  of  Central  Park,  are  selling  at 
$5,000.  The  time  by  horse-rail  cars  between  these  two  extreme  points  is  not  over  fifteen 
or  twenty  minutes,  while  the  difference  in  the  value  of  lots  is  as  say  $450  is  to  $5,000.  And 
this  difference  in  value  actually  exists,  without  taking  into  the  account  that  the  northerly 
side  of  the  park  is  by  far  the  most  beautiful  for  private  residences.  And  if  the  park  is  to  be 
extended  from  106th  to  110th  streets — which  is  almost  certain — then  lots  on  110th  Street, 
now  selling  at  say  $500,  must  be  equally  as  valuable  as  106th  Street  now  is,  viz.:  $2,000. 

Who  dare  predict  how  long  it  will  be  before  lots  fronting  on  the  northerly  side  of  Cen- 
tral Park  will  be  worth  more  than  lots  on  the  south  side?  Look  at  the  advantages  of  the 
former  (which  embrace  town  and  country)  over  the  latter. 


[  148  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H    C.  BROWN 

ICoriJ  $c  ulaglor  in  (Eatljanur  Street,  1B33 


AMONG  THE  OLDER  FIRMS  IN  NEW  YORK  LORD  ft  TAYLOR  STAND 
PRE-EMINENT.  THE  PICTURE  SHOWN  ABOVE  REPRESENTS  THEIR 
STORE  IN  CATHARINE  STREET  AT  THE  TIME  WHEN  THAT  WAS  THE 
CENTRE  OF  A  FASHIONABLE  NEIGHBORHOOD.  IN  THE  SAME  VICIN- 
ITY WERE  A  T.  STEWART  AND  BROOKS  BROS.  IT  WAS  THE  LEADING 
RETAIL  THOROUGHFARE. 

FROM    THE   COLLECTION   OF   MESSRS.  LORD  a  TAYLOR. 


Curious  Estimates  of  Coming  Values 


The  south  side  of  Mount  Morris  Square  is  bounded  by  120th  Street,  and  the  north  side 
of  Central  Park  will  be  bounded  by  110th  Street.  Between  these  two  parks,  only  about  the 
same  distance  apart  as  Union  Square  and  Madison  Square,  lots  25x100  can  now  be  bought 
(see  Bleecker  &  Son's  auction  sale,  October  14,  1858)  from  $385  to  $500  each. 

Where  are  the  men  who  sneered  at  Mr.  S.  B.  Ruggles  when  he  would  not  sell  lots  around 
Union  Square  at  $1,000 — and  who  so  wisely  declared  "they  are  too  high"? 

On  the  Fifth  Avenue,  above  125th  Street,  elegant  improvements  are  already  made  (with 
a  neat  church)  and  are  rapidly  extending  toward  Harlem  River.  From  the  north  side  of 
the  Central  Park  to  Mount  Morris  Square,  on  the  Fifth  Avenue,  there  are  only  224  lots; 
north  of  Mount  Morris  Square,  and  south  of  Harlem  River,  they  are  all  now  built  upon, 
except  eighty  lots ;  add  to  this  the  few  remaining  lots  south  of  the  park,  and  you  have  all 
that  remain  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  between  Washington  Square  and  Harlem  River,  except  those 
fronting  on  the  park. 

The  third  and  Eighth  Avenues,  as  soon  as  the  cars  run,  will  bring  all  this  property 
nearer  to  Wall  Street  than  Fourteenth  Street  was  twenty  years  ago.  One  Hundred  and 
Twenty-fifth  Street  is  mostly  built  up,  macadamized  from  river  to  river,  100  feet  wide,  with 
Croton  and  gas,  and  is  one  of  the  most  pleasant  streets  in  the  city.  As  an  evidence  of  the 
rapid  increase  of  this  city,  there  are  now  two  hourly  steamers  from  122d  Street  to  Peck  Slip, 
fare  seven  cents,  and  they  often  carry  3,000  passengers  a  day.  Then  there  is  the  Second 
Avenue  railroad,  running  to  122d  Street.  The  Third  Avenue  railroad  is  graded  and  the 
rails  will  be  laid  to  Harlem  within  a  few  months.  The  Fourth  Avenue  is  now  running  to 
Harlem  River.  The  Eighth  Avenue  will  be  running  to  Harlem  as  soon  as  the  avenue  is 
graded — the  cars  now  running  to  Sixtieth  Street — and  the  Sixth  Avenue  to  Fifty-ninth 
Street.  The  Hudson  River  railroad  stops  at  Manhattanville.  The  Ninth  Avenue  is  next 
wanted.  When  these  are  all  completed,  Carmanville,  Harlem,  Manhattanville,  Yorkville,  etc., 
etc.,  will  all  be  merged  into  the  city  of  New  York,  as  fully  as  Bank  and  Amos,  and  other 
streets  are,  which  were  known  twenty  years  ago  as  "Greenwich."  Indeed,  the  whole  island  is 
now  included  in  the  corporation  of  the  city  of  New  York,  and  all  these  old  landmarks  in  the 
shape  of  local  names  will  soon  be  gone  forever. 

In  1838,  Mr.  Mortimer  erected  his  large  stone  mansion  on  Broadway,  between  Twelfth 
and  Thirteenth  Streets.  That  was  then  literally  the  country;  no  omnibus  line  would  then  go 
above  Bond  Street.    Now  it  is  so  far  down  in  town  as  to  be  used  only  as  a  hotel. 

The  world  has  had  almost  an  entire  rest  for  one  whole  year,  since  the  panic.  In  1859  the 
inflation  will  begin;  the  increase  of  gold  will  then  be  felt. 

October  5,  1858. 

I  took  no  offense  at  your  mentioning  to  me  that  great  care  must  be  used  in  my  state- 
ments, as  you  could  admit  nothing  into  your  columns  that  could  not  be  defended.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  the  high  character  for  reliability  of  your  paper,  and  entire  confidence  in 
my  statements,  that  induced  me  to  wish  to  be  heard  through  its  columns.  With  these  views, 
I  now  ask  you  to  admit  the  following  table  of  sales  and  present  values  of  real  estate,  showing 
profits  on  the  different  sales  from  65  per  cent,  in  one  year  to  375  per  cent,  on  longer  periods. 

In  order  that  your  readers  may  not  only  fully  understand  my  premises,  but  may  have  the 
opportunity,  with  a  few  figures,  of  proving  my  results,  I  will  state,  that  to  enable  me  to  pre- 
pare this  table  I  am  indebted  to  the  politeness  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  Comptroller's  office  for 
copies  of  the  actual  sales  made  at  auction  by  the  Corporation,  and  for  the  estimate  of  the 
present  value  to  Messrs.  A.  J.  Bleecker  &  Son,  of  whom  I  requested  the  favor  to  furnish  me, 

[151] 


Rapid  Advance  in  Values 


for  this  purpose,  with  such  estimates  of  the  present  cash  value  as  they  would  consider  as  fair 
between  buyer  and  seller.  Upon  their  high  character  for  fairness,  and  the  general  intelligence 
of  your  readers,  I  leave  the  estimate  of  the  present  value.  For  all  the  other  statements  I 
hold  myself  responsible.    Pardon  this  preamble,  and  insert  the  following  table: 


Corporation  Sales,  April,  1847. 


On  what 

Between  what 

street. 

streets. 

[To-day.] 

Then. 

in tli  street 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

$60,000 

$1,650 

20th  street 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

60,000 

2,000 

21st  street 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

60,000 

1,950 

21st  street,  c. 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

2,475 

17th  and  18th  sts. 

6th  and  7th  aves. 

30,000 

2,350 

18th  street 

6th  and  7th  aves. 

30,000 

1,200 

On  what 
street. 
16th  street 
4th  avenue 


4th  avenue 
50th  street 
51st  street 


Between  what 

streets.               [To-day.]  Then. 

7th  and  8th  aves.         $20,000  $1,350 

50th  and  51st,  corner  750 


50th  and  51st,  inside 
3d  and  4th  aves. 
3d  and  4th  aves. 


cor.  inside 
$2,500  each. 


450 
400 
360 


Corporation  Sale,  March,  1850. 


On  what 

Between  what 

[To-day.] 

On  what 

Between  what 

street. 

streets. 

Then. 

street. 

streets. 

[To-day.] 

Then. 

32d  street 

4th  and  5th  aves.  $6' 

D,000-$100,000 

$1,500 

8th  avenue 

65th  street 

$50,000 

$400 

43d  street 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

75,000 

1,200 

64th  street 

Near  8th  ave. 

30,000 

225 

44th  street 

Gth  and  6th  aves. 

75,000 

1,150 

66th  street 

Near  3d  ave. 

700 

45th  street 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

75,000 

776 

Lex'ton  ave. 

65th  and  66th  sts. 

35,000 

800 

61st  street 

Near  4th  ave. 

60,000 

450 

70th  street 

At  4th  ave. 

60,000-85,000 

375 

5  2d  street 

Near  4th  ave. 

60,000 

400 

3d  avenue 

70th  st. 

25,000 

760 

Lex'ton  ave. 

52d  street 

30,000 

450 

71st  street 

3d  ave. 

30,000 

480 

4th  avenue 

53d  street 

50,000 

400 

80th  street 

3d  ave. 

20,000 

290 

Lex'ton  ave. 

53d  to  65th  sts.,  avg. 

30,000 

420 

3d  avenue 

80th  st. 

25,000 

625 

4th  avenue 

Near  55th  st. 

50,000 

325 

79th  street 

3d  ave. 

25,000 

295 

4th  avenue 

66th  to  57th  sts. 

50,000 

300 

4th  avenue 

83d  st. 

50,000 

400 

5th  avenue 

56th  to  57th  sts. 

35,000 

575 

83d  street 

4th  ave. 

50,000-75,000 

275 

6th  avenue 

68th  St. 

36,000 

500 

5th  avenue 

86th  St.,  corner 

250,000 

850 

58th  street 

5th  and  6th  aves. 

60,000 

220 

5th  avenue 

86th  St.,  inside 

125,000 

506 

64th  and  66th  sts. 

Bloomingdale 

400 

86th  street 

5th  ave. 

60,000 

510 

Corporation  Sale,  December,  1852. 


On  what  Between  what 

street.  streets. 

Lex'ton  ave.  51st  and  52d  sts. 

Corner 

53d  street  4th  and  5th  aves. 

58th  to  62d,  sts.  5th  and  6th  aves. 

64th  to  68th  sts.  6th  and  7th  aves. 


[To-day.] 
$35,000 

60,000-85,000 
76,000 


Then. 
$1,400 
2,100 
1,100 
700 
600 


On  what 
street. 
74th  to  78th  sts. 
80th  to  81st  sts. 
77th  street 


Between  what 

streets. 
5th  and  6th  aves. 
5th  and  6th  aves. 
4th  and  5th  aves. 


77th  and  78th  sts.   6th  and  7th  aves. 


Corporation  Sale,  February,  1857. 


On  what 
street. 
74th  street 
3d  avenue 
80th  street 


Between  what 

streets. 
3d  and  4th  aves. 
74th  street 
3d  and  4th  on  street 


[To-day.] 
$30,000 
25,000 
25,000 


Then. 
$600 
1,000 
960 


On  what 
street. 
80th  street 
116th  street 
117th  street 


Between  what 

streets. 
3d  and  4th  on  ave. 
3d  and  4th  aves. 
3d  and  4th  aves. 


[To-day.] 

$20,000 
12,000 


Then. 
$750 
750 
650 
600 


Then. 

$2,000 
600 
600 


What  is  more  remarkable  is,  that  the  tide  appears  not  yet  to  have  reached  much  above 
Central  Park,  as  by  the  sales  of  February,  1857,  lots  sold  on  116th  and  117th  Streets  at 
$500  and  $600,  which  Messrs.  Bleecker  &  Son  only  now  estimate  at  $600  and  $700,  being 
only  about  $100  advance;  while  during  the  same  period  lots  in  other  locations,  in  the  same 
sale,  have  advanced  from  $700  to  $1,100  a  lot.  Another  fact  which  deserves  notice  is,  that 
all  the  lots,  on  an  average,  between  Central  Park  and  Harlem  River,  and  the  North  and 
East  Rivers,  are  now  selling  about  as  low  as  they  sold  in  1836 — being  the  only  spot  in  and 
around  New  York  where  property  has  not  more  than  doubled  in  value  since  that  period.  Har- 
lem River  is  soon  to  be  the  business  center  of  this  city.  Who  can  doubt  this,  who  has  eyes  that 
can  see  the  great  improvements  going  on  in  Westchester  county? 

Central  Park  is  now  more  sure  to  be  "down  in  town,"  ten  years  hence,  than  Union 
Park  was  at  the  time  Mr.  Ruggles  proposed  that  improvement.  At  the  time  when  Mr. 
Ruggles  made  his  plans  about  Union  Square,  he  had  only  a  lever  to  work  with  of  less  than 
two  hundred  thousand  population.  If  that  lever  has  produced  what  is  now  before  us,  what 
will  a  lever  of  eight  hundred  thousand  population  produce  in  ten  years  more,  especially  when 
it  is  considered  what  our  wealth  now  is,  compared  with  what  it  was  when  there  was  not  an 
omnibus  on  Broadway? 


[152] 


BROWN. 

Ifpkman  ^amt,  ntar  50tlf  Attest  attb  last  Rivet 


BUILT  IN  1763  BY  A  DESCENDANT  OF  WILLIAM  BEEKMAN.  WHO 
CAME  FROM  HOLLAND  WITH  PETER  STUYVESANT  IN  1647.  IT  WAS 
THE  HEADQUARTERS  OF  GENERALS  HOWE  AND  CLINTON  DURING 
THE  REVOLUTION.  MAJOR  ANDRE  STAYED  HERE  THE  NIGHT  BEFORE 
HIS  FATAL  ADVENTURE.  AND  NATHAN  HALE  WAS  BROUGHT  HERE 
FOR  EXAMINATION  AFTER  HIS  CAPTURE.  HALE  WAS  AFTERWARDS 
EXECUTED  ON  THE  BEEKMAN  FARM  DOWNTOWN.  NOT  FAR  FROM 
WHERE  HIS  STATUE  NOW  STANDS. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  GERARD  BEEKMAN. 


Dr.  Kixg  of  Columbia  is  a  Good  Judge 


In  conversation  with  Dr.  King,  of  Columbia  College,  the  other  day,  he  told  me  that 
while  he  was  in  his  own  mind  preparing  his  address  to  the  Chamber  of  Commerce,  he  stood 
with  perfect  astonishment  in  the  street,  as  he  looked  around  and  saw  the  changes  within 
his  own  recollection.  And  he  remarked  that  he  had,  after  much  reflection,  reached  the  con- 
clusion that  it  was  time  to  sell  below  Twentieth  Street,  and  invest  this  side  of  Harlem 
River.  How  fully  is  Dr.  King's  opinion  confirmed,  by  the  actual  sales  and  estimates  of 
present  values  as  herein  stated!  There  is  not  a  city  in  the  United  States,  or  in  the  world, 
where  property  is  so  low  as  it  is  around  New  York,  compared  with  its  many  incomparable 
advantages. 

Almost  every  intelligent  stranger  from  Europe,  or  from  other  cities,  exclaims  how  low 
the  property  is  around  New  York.  How  many  are  there  among  us  who  will  look  back  five 
years  hence  with  wonder  that  they  should  have  lost  the  present  golden  moment  to  enrich 
themselves  by  the  purchase  of  real  estate  at  present  prices,  which  are  less  than  one-half  what 
property  brought  in  1825,  when  lots  on  Broadway  sold  at  $1,000,  and  now  worth  $50,000, 
provided  the  increase  of  wealth  and  population  is  taken  into  the  account? 

In  conclusion,  allow  me  to  compare  the  present  position  of  merchants  with  real  estate 
holders.  Where  is  the  property  of  the  merchants,  and  where  is  that  of  the  real  estate 
holder;  where  is  the  man,  or  the  widow,  or  the  orphan,  whose  funds  were  invested  in  rail- 
road bonds  and  other  kindred  securities,  and  where  are  those  whose  investments  were  at  7  per 
cent,  on  bond  and  mortgage?  The  answer  is  within  the  reach  of  all — ruin,  ruin  to  thousands 
of  the  former,  while  almost  perfect  security  has  been  the  joy  of  the  latter. 

At  the  time  these  corporation  sales  were  made,  there  was  not  one  man  in  ten  who  did 
not  exclaim,  "What  prices!"  "Are  people  deranged?"  "The  buyers  will  never  take  the 
deeds."  "They  will  never  pay  down  the  thirty  per  cent."  Every  day  now  we  hear  similar 
opinions,  and  mostly  from  rich  men  who  are  crying  over  their  "piles,"  were  probably  never 
five  times  above  Fiftieth  Street  in  their  lives,  and  whose  energy  and  enterprise,  by  high  living 
and  no  exercise,  was  all  destroyed  years  ago.  Let  every  man  who  has  a  spark  of  enterprise 
at  once  go  all  over  the  ground  above  Central  Park,  between  the  three  rivers — if  he  has 
no  horse,  go  on  foot — explore  every  lot,  disregard  the  superannuated  croakers,  and  see  for 
himself.  Rely  alone  upon  your  own  eyes  and  your  own  head.  A  thousand  lots  can  be 
bought  to-day  that  promise  twice  the  profit  that  was  expected  from  those  sold  by  the  Cor- 
poration at  the  time  of  the  sales.  Look  at  the  result  with  the  merchant  who,  instead  of 
increasing  his  business  every  year,  has  put  his  surplus  profits  into  real  estate. 


[155] 


ROMANCES  IN  REAL  ESTATE 


WHAT  EARLY  CENTURY  ERRORS  HAVE  COST  INDIVIDUALS 

Farm  near  Madison  Square  Traded  for  one  in  Lewis  Co. — Former  now  Worth 
$26,000,000,  Latter  $450 — Broadway  and  Twentieth  Street  Corner  Exchanged 
for  House  in  Macdougal  Street — A  Chapter  of  Horrors 

Mrs.  Clarissa  Moore,  whose  estate  sold  25  Macdougal  Street,  a  parcel  which 
she  took  in  1835  in  an  even  trade  for  the  site  of  the  Lord  &  Taylor  store  at  Broad- 
way and  Twentieth  Street,  is  not  the  only  person  that  can  be  accused  of  bad  judg- 
ment in  real  estate  matters  in  the  last  century.  There  have  been  hundreds  and 
hundreds  of  such  cases,  and  as  a  consequence  there  are  many  persons  in  this  city 
to-day  who  have  good  reasons  to  regret  or  criticize  the  foresight  of  their  ancestors. 
It  is  nothing  unusual  for  a  man  to  point  with  a  sigh  to  a  Fifth  Avenue  corner 
or  some  other  well  located  property  and  tell  you  that  had  his  great-grandfather 
had  more  prudence  he  would  be  the  owner  of  the  property. 

John  Lindsley,  head  of  the  legal  department  of  the  Wood,  Harmon  Com- 
pany, is  one  of  the  many  in  New  York  who  have  reason  to  lament  an  early  cen- 
tury transaction.  Had  this  deal  never  been  closed  he  would  be  one  of  the 
wealthiest  landowners  in  New  York  City  to-day.  He  would  be  worth  in  real 
estate  more  than  $25,000,000.  He  was  separated  from  this  tidy  little  sum  in  1835, 
when  William  Lindsley,  his  grandfather,  sold  to  a  Lewis  County  farmer  his  hold- 
ings comprising  the  property  bounded  by  Fifth  and  Sixth  Avenues  and  Twenty- 
first  and  Twenty-third  Streets.  He  traded  it  for  a  farm  of  150  acres  in  the  west- 
ern part  of  Lewis  County,  New  York,  which  the  Lindsley  family  still  owns  and 
would  gladly  sell  for  $3  an  acre,  or  $450. 

Mr.  Lindsley  was  a  Scotchman.  He  was  a  marble  worker  by  trade  and  came 
to  this  country  about  1801.  He  had  heard  from  friends  the  great  opportunities 
that  this  country  offered,  so  he  concluded  to  emigrate. 

Shortly  after  landing  in  New  York  he  bought  the  two  blocks  between  Twenty- 
first  and  Twenty-third  Streets.  The  property  was  far  outside  of  the  city  limits, 
which  were  below  Canal  Street.  He  laid  the  property  out  for  farming  and  with 
his  trade  as  a  marble  cutter  earned  for  his  family  a  comfortable  living.  On  Sun- 
days he  took  his  family  to  Madison  Cottage,  later  the  site  of  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Hotel,  where  he  met  farmers  of  adjoining  sections. 

New  York  did  not  then  show  any  promise  of  developing  into  the  great  city 
that  it  is  to-day.  Its  growth  could  hardly  be  noticed,  and  very  few  of  the  farmers 
that  gathered  at  the  Madison  Cottage  on  Sundays  ever  expected  the  city  to  pass 
Canal  Street.  Even  south  of  that  street  there  was  much  open  country.  Broad- 
way had  no  sidewalks  above  Chambers  Street,  and  the  stage  to  Madison  Cottage, 


[156] 


$25,000,000  Exchanged  foe  $450 


one  of  the  few  hotels  outside  the  city,  did  not  run  more  than  once  a  day.  The 
waterfront  of  the  city,  however,  was  well  built  up.  Uncle  Sam  then  led  the  world 
in  merchant  marine.    The  bay  and  rivers  were  well  dotted  with  sailing  ships. 

After  the  War  of  1812  the  city  took  on  great  activity,  but  it  was  chiefly  south 
of  Canal  Street  and  along  the  waterfront.  The  central  sections  it  appeared  then 
would  never  be  any  more  than  suburbs.  This  was  not  only  the  view  of  Mr. 
Lindsley,  but  also  Mrs.  Moore's,  who  was  one  of  the  shrewdest  real  estaters  in  the 
city  at  the  time.  Mrs.  Moore's  property  was  just  across  from  Mr.  Lindsley.  It 
was  unoccupied  except  for  rubbish,  which  made  it  popular  with  the  goats  of  the 
neighborhood. 

Mr.  Lindsley  had  owned  the  farm  for  some  years,  but  it  was  no  more  valu- 
able than  it  was  when  he  bought  it.  He  wanted  to  sell  but  nobody  wanted  to  buy. 
Mrs.  Moore  also  wanted  to  sell  her  corner.  The  fact  that  she  wanted  to  sell  did 
not  help  Mr.  Lindsley  in  finding  a  buyer,  for  it  was  the  general  opinion  that  Mrs. 
Moore  would  not  be  so  anxious  to  let  it  go  if  there  was  any  chance  of  that  section 
becoming  a  part  of  the  city  proper. 

Finally  in  1835  he  struck  up  a  deal  with  a  Lewis  County  farmer  who  offered 
to  trade  farms.  He  pointed  out  to  Mr.  Lindsley  that  he  was  giving  a  farm  of  150 
acres  for  one  of  only  about  nine  acres  with  the  possibility  of  an  enhancing  of  value 
as  great  there  as  down  here. 

This  line  of  reasoning  won  Mr.  Lindsley.  He  had  a  growing  family  and 
wanted  them  to  grow  up  men.  With  the  additional  acres  he  could  increase  his 
crops  and  thereby  his  earnings.  With  this  amount  of  ground  he  reasoned  he  could 
well  afford  to  give  up  his  trade  of  marble  cutting,  which  did  not  prove  very  lucra- 
tive here  because  of  the  simplicity  of  the  people. 

With  all  this  in  his  mind  he  decided  he  was  doing  the  best  thing  for  his  family 
and  sold  the  property  and  hiked  off  for  Lewis  County,  firmly  believing  he  had  the 
better  of  the  transaction.  In  the  meantime,  Mrs.  Moore  found  a  buyer  for  her 
property,  the  southwest  corner  of  Broadway  and  Twentieth  Street.  Mrs.  Moore 
struck  up  a  deal  with  a  school  teacher  who  owned  25  Macdougal  Street,  which  was 
then  part  of  one  of  the  best  residential  sections  of  the  city.  Many  people  of 
wealth  and  distinction  lived  there.  Mrs.  Moore  wanted  a  house  in  that  section  as 
a  residence  and  persuaded  the  school  teacher  that  he  was  not  making  a  mistake  by 
taking  her  Broadway  property. 

The  deal  was  closed  and  Mrs.  Moore  was  commended  by  her  friends  for  the 
great  bargain  she  had  made.  It  was  not  long  before  the  school  teacher  realized 
his  mistake.  There  was  no  revenue  from  the  property  and  it  took  all  his  savings 
to  hold  it.  When  he  put  the  property  in  the  market  for  sale,  he  was  asked  with 
a  smile  why  he  was  willing  to  let  it  go  so  soon.  Nobody  would  buy  it,  so  he  was 
forced  to  hold  it,  for  which  he  was  afterward  very  thankful. 

The  expansion  of  business  which  started  after  the  Mexican  War  had  in  these 
days  reached  great  proportions,  forcing  all  of  the  downtown  merchants  into  the 
new  district.    Immigration  was  also  a  great  factor.    Most  of  the  newcomers  re- 


[159] 


Values  Affected  by  Changes  in  Neighborhoods 


sided  in  the  old  residential  district  downtown,  and  with  the  purchase  of  St.  John's 
Park  by  the  railroad  most  of  the  colony  changed  their  location.  These  people 
then  moved  north,  settling  in  Fifth  Avenue,  Broadway,  Fourth  Avenue  and  the 
adjoining  streets.  Property  there  was  in  great  demand  and  farms  were  subdivided 
into  building  lots.  The  Lindsley  farm  and  Mrs.  Moore's  corner  were  the  centre 
of  the  new  colony,  which  became  the  elite  section  of  the  city.  Lots  on  Twenty- 
third  street  between  Fifth  and  Sixth  Avenues  were  then  selling  for  $7,000  and 
$8,000  each.  The  Schermerhorns  built  a  fine  mansion  on  the  north  side  of  the  street, 
recently  torn  down  to  make  way  for  a  loft  building. 

After  St.  John's  Park  lost  many  of  its  residents,  the  residential  colony  to  the 
east,  which  included  Macdougal  Street,  began  to  decline.  Inside  of  fifteen  years 
Mrs.  Moore  found  herself  in  the  midst  of  a  growing  negro  colony.  It  is  now  one 
of  the  largest  Italian  settlements  in  the  city.  The  house  is  the  same,  except  that 
a  store  has  been  put  in  on  the  ground  floor. 

In  the  meantime  the  Lindsley  farm  in  Twenty-third  Street  and  adjacent 
property  were  increasing  steadily  in  value.  Many  of  the  clubs  now  on  upper 
Fifth  Avenue  were  located  there.  After  about  thirty  years  as  a  locality  of  fine 
houses,  business  made  its  appearance  and  before  long  it  had  a  considerable  foothold 
in  the  section.  Broadway  and  Twenty-third  Street  was  then  partly  business.  They 
were  being  developed  as  part  of  the  shopping  district,  which  was  then  south  of 
Fourteenth  Street. 

In  1871  Lord  &  Taylor  took  Mrs.  Moore's  corner  as  a  site  for  an  uptown 
branch  on  a  long  lease.  It  was  leased  from  the  Goelet  and  Roosevelt  estates, 
which  still  own  the  property.  The  property  was  valued  last  year  by  the  city  with- 
out the  improvement  at  $1,255,000,  and  probably  would  easily  bring  $1,500,000 
if  offered  for  sale.  The  Macdougal  Street  property  was  sold  a  few  weeks  ago 
by  Mrs.  Moore's  heirs  for  $10,000.  Two  years  ago  they  refused  an  offer  of 
$12,500  for  the  property.    They  wanted  $13,000. 

But  this  great  difference  cannot  be  compared  with  the  fortune  lost  to  the 
Lindsley  estate  by  the  deal  of  1835. 

The  Lindsley  farm  on  Fifth  Avenue  without  its  buildings  was  valued  by  the 
Tax  Department  last  year  at  $20,324,500.  The  farm  is  covered  with  at  least 
seventy-five  tall  loft  buildings  besides  the  department  stores  along  Twenty-third 
Street.  The  realty  on  the  south  of  Twenty-third  Street  between  Fifth  and  Sixth 
Avenues,  which  up  to  sixty  years  ago  was  planted  with  potatoes  and  cabbages,  was 
last  year  taxed  for  $8,733,000.  With  the  improvements  the  city  claimed  the 
block  was  worth  $9,708,000. 

Had  Mr.  Lindsley  held  only  part  of  this  block,  say  the  parcel  covered  by 
Stern  Bros.'  store,  his  estate  would  now  be  about  $3,000,000  richer.  Had  he  held 
the  Sixth  Avenue  corner  occupied  by  McCreery's  his  heirs  would  be  richer 
by  $2,000,000.  The  block  bounded  by  Fifth  and  Sixth  Avenues,  Twenty-second 
and  Twenty-third  Streets,  is  valued  at  $15,104,000,  and  the  block  to  the  south 
at  $5,223,000.  With  the  improvements  these  two  blocks  are  assessed  at 
$26,277,500. 


[160] 


COPYRIGHT    1913    H.  C  BROWN 

Brlnumiro'a,  at  iFiftlj  Anrnu?  anil  14tl|  &txeet 


THE  OLD  MOSES  GRINNELL  HOUSE.  CORNER  OF  FIFTH  AVENUE  AND 
14th  STREET.  WHEN  IT  WAS  OCCUPIED  BY  DELMONICO  AS  A 
RESTAURANT.  NOW  THE  SITE  OF  THE  SECURITY  NATIONAL  BANK 

FROM  THE   COLLECTION    OF   MR    E.  H.  SAUER 


John  Jacob  Astor's  "Palais  Royal" 


The  Lewis  County  property  has  fifty  acres  of  clearing  and  the  remaining  100 
acres  heavily  timbered.  It  is  still  occupied  by  the  Lindsley  family,  but  this  is 
not  because  of  any  sentiment  attached  to  the  place.  They  will  let  it  go,  timber 
and  all,  for  $450. 

These  two  incidents  emphasize  the  fact  that  one  cannot  buy  real  estate 
blindly.  There  is  as  much  need  for  looking  ahead  to-day  as  in  the  days  of  1835, 
for  there  is  no  telling  what  to-day's  transactions  may  mean  to  posterity. 

The  list  of  frugal  Dutchmen  who  traded  barren  farms  on  Broadway  for  the 
richer  and  more  prolific  cabbage  lands  of  Hoboken  is  a  long  and  painful  one.  And 
the  case  of  Mrs.  Adolph  Klein,  a  worthy  German,  is  not  unusual.  The  corner  of 
Barclay  and  Church  Streets  in  1868  was  offered  her  for  $16,000,  but,  because  the 
worthy  dame  had  only  $10,000  in  cash  and  would  not  buy  on  mortgage,  she  refused 
the  offer  and  bought  in,  say,  Arlington,  N.  J.,  instead.  The  New  York  corner  is 
now  worth  about  $200,000,  and  Arlington  ! 

WHEN  J.  J.  ASTOR  ADVERTISED— HAD  GOOD  STORE  TO  LET  IN  1813 

ON  SITE  OF  THE  ASTOR  HOUSE 

Just  one  hundred  years  ago,  in  The  New  York  Gazette,  appeared  the  fol- 
lowing advertisement : 

"To  let  for  one  or  more  years,  a  pleasant  situation  and  an  excellent  stand 
for  a  dry  goods  store,  the  corner  house  of  Vesey  Street  and  Broadway.  Enquire 
for  particulars  of  John  Jacob  Astor,  corner  of  Pearl  and  Pine  Streets." 

The  house  advertised  by  Mr.  Astor  was  one  of  five  houses  which  at  that  time 
occupied  the  Broadway  front  now  covered  by  the  Astor  House,  built  in  1835. 
Before  the  Revolution  it  was  the  home  of  John  Rutherford.  The  adjoining  one 
was  occupied  by  Col.  Axtell,  a  British  officer,  and  later  by  Lewis  S.  Scott.  The 
third  house  was  owned  by  Rufus  King,  afterward  United  States  Senator  and 
Minister  to  England,  and  it  was  the  first  one  in  the  block  bought  by  Mr.  Astor. 
Adjoining  was  Cornelius  Roosevelt's  home,  later  sold  to  David  Lydig,  while  John 
G.  Coster  owned  the  Barclay  Street  corner,  and  this  was  acquired  by  Mr.  Astor 
when  preparing  to  build  his  hotel. 

Philip  Hone,  who  lived  in  the  block  above,  mentions  in  his  Diary  under  date 
of  April  4,  1834,  that  John  Jacob  Astor  had  just  returned  from  Europe  and  adds: 

"He  comes  in  time  to  witness  the  pulling  down  of  the  block  of  houses  next  to 
that  on  which  I  live — the  window  front  from  Barclay  to  Vesey  Street  on  Broad- 
way— where  he  is  going  to  erect  a  New  York  palais  royal,  which  will  cost  him 
five  or  six  hundred  thousand  dollars." 


[163] 


NEW  YORK  ASSETS  NEARLY  A  BILLION  AND  A  HALF 


This  City  Leads  All  Others  in  Value  of  Lands,  Parks  and  Institutions — Nearly 
Seven  Hundred  Millions  in  Parks  and  Recreation  Piers  Alone — Statement 
of  the  Comptroller. 

We  have  read  so  much  of  the  little  two  and  a  half  story  red-brick  city  that 
was,  that  perhaps  it  will  be  equally  pleasant  to  contemplate  the  thirty  to  forty  story 
skyscraping  city  of  the  present. 

The  following  figures  regarding  New  York's  Material  Wealth  are  as  of  Janu- 
ary 1,  1913. 

By  William  A.  Prendergast,  Comptroller 

The  gross  funded  debt  of  the  city  is  $1,122,690,042.75.  Against  this  amount 
the  city  had  in  its  sinking  funds  $302,625,678.53,  leaving  the  net  funded  debt 
$820,064,364.22.  Of  this  amount  approximately  $207,000,000  is  represented  by 
self-sustaining  investments.  The  balance  of  the  figures  are  contained  in  the  fol- 
lowing statement  of  the  assessed  valuation  of  the  city's  real  estate  for  the  year 
1913: 

Bath  Houses   $2,546,250 

Recreation  Piers   1,400,500 

Board  of  Education   116,134,350 

Fire  Department   8,287,965 

Street  Cleaning  Department   1,040,075 

Department  of  Water  Supply,  Gas  &  Electricity   66,934,724 

Department  of  Docks  &  Ferries  (Piers,  Bulkheads  and  Land  under 

Water)    106,424,690 

Department  of  Bridges   97,723,500 

Department  of  Correction   26,398,000 

Department  of  Public  Charities   28,280,350 

Department  of  Parks   669,503,355 

Armories    14,536,800 

Department  of  Health   1,082,350 

Libraries  (City)    24,113,300 

Police  Department   7,149,300 

Sewerage  System   70,660,925 

Fire  and  Police  Electric  System   1,385,000 

Corporation  Yards   578,600 

Markets   6,669,300 

Rapid  Transit  (Subway)    87,941,000 

Public  Buildings  and  Places,  etc   31,278,470 

Board  of  Water  Supply   2,990,276 

$1,373,059,080 


[  164  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913,    H    C.  BROWN 


An  (iDlii-fuBhimtrfi  OSnrliru  in  QHtrlara  Itillaqp 


THIS  INTERESTING  BIT  OF  COUNTRY  LANDSCAPE  WAS  TAKEN  ONLY 
A  FEW  YEARS  AGO  AT  THE  CUSHMAN  RESIDENCE.  WHERE  NOW 
STAND  THE  CHELSEA  APARTMENTS,  NINTH  AVENUE  AND  22nd 
STREET  THE  CUSHMAN  HOMEWAS  ONEOFTHE  LAST  LANDMARKS 
OF  A  BEAUTIFUL  SECTION  OF  OLD  NEW  YORK. 


GINGER  WINE 


Here  is  the  formula  for  a  drink  that  was  highly  popular  in  our  grandmothers' 
time.  There  is  scarcely  a  New  Yorker  who  cannot  recall  some  reference  to  it, 
though  he  may  not  have  been  personally  familiar  with  this  old-time  concoction. 
But  it  was  immensely  popular  in  the  olden  days  and  is  described  as  a  cheap,  pleas- 
ant and  salutary  wine,  so  we  have  decided  to  give  the  recipe  a  place  here. 

The  following  valuable  receipt  is  but  little  known,  but  will  be  found  to  be  the  best  method 
of  making  this  very  cheap,  pleasant,  and  salutary  wine.  To  every  gallon  of  water  put  two 
pounds  of  sugar  and  one  ounce  and  a  half  of  grossly  pounded  ginger  tied  in  a  coarse  linen  bag. 
Boil  these  together  half  an  hour,  or  as  long  as  any  scum  arises,  which  must  be  carefully 
skimmed  off.  Put  this  liquor,  when  sufficiently  boiled,  into  a  tub,  and  on  its  becoming  of  the 
warmth  of  new  milk,  add  the  juice  and  rinds  of  two  lemons,  and  half  a  Seville  orange  for  each 
gallon.  If  ten  gallons  be  made,  put  in  two  table  spoonsful  of  yeast  or  a  bit  of  toasted  bread. 
Should  the  wine  be  made  in  cold  weather,  it  must  be  kept  in  a  warm  place,  the  better  to  pro- 
mote fermentation,  which  sometimes  does  not  take  place  for  a  day  or  two.  If  it  ferments 
freely,  turn  it  up  the  third  day,  ginger  and  rinds  together,  in  a  cask  just  calculated  to  hold 
it,  keeping  out  a  small  portion  for  the  purpose  of  filling  up  the  cask  while  it  continues  to  work, 
which  must  by  no  means  be  filled  up  with  any  part  of  what  flows  over.  When  it  has  ceased  fer- 
menting, rack  it  off  into  another  cask,  adding  to  every  four  gallons  a  quart  of  the  best  brandy, 
with  half  an  ounce  of  isinglass  previously  dissolved  in  some  of  the  wine.  In  one  month's  time 
it  will  be  fit  to  drink,  or  bottle ;  and  few  families,  it  will  be  presumed,  who  once  make  it  and 
experience  its  good  effects,  will  ever  after  choose  to  be  without  a  cordial  wine  at  once  so  cheap 
and  comfortable. 

CURIOUS  NEWSPAPER  STYLE  OF  OLD  DAYS 

Some  idea  of  the  pedagogic,  stilted  and  semi-religious  attitude  of  our  daily 
papers  sixty  years  ago  may  be  gleaned  from  the  following  excerpts.  They  are 
typical  of  all  dailies  published  at  that  time,  and  every  issue  abounds  in  similar 
instances  of  what  we  now  regard  as  platitude  and  cant. 

The  Gayety  of  the  Wicked. — The  affected  gayety  of  a  wicked  man  is  like  the  flowery  sur- 
face of  Mount  Aetna,  beneath  which  materials  are  gathering  for  an  eruption  that  will  one  day 
reduce  all  its  beauties  to  ruin  and  desolation. 

Dr.  Franklin,  in  summing  up  the  domestic  evils  of  drunkenness,  says :  "Houses  without 
windows,  gardens  without  fences,  fields  without  tillage,  barns  without  roofs,  children  without 
clothing,  morals  or  manners." 

Sabbath  Breakers  Cannot  Be  Trusted. — A  distinguished  merchant,  a  great  judge  of  char- 
acter, said:  "When  I  see  one  of  my  apprentices  or  clerks  riding  out  on  the  Sabbath,  on  Mon- 
day I  dismiss  him.    Such  an  one  cannot  be  trusted." 


[167] 


MEMORIES  OF  THE  WALLAGKS 

Early  Days  of  the  Stock  Company — Lester  Wallack  and  His  Intimates 

By  Arthur  W.  Wallack 

The  Wallacks  were  managers  of  theatres  in  New  York  as  far  back  as  1825, 
Henry  Wallack,  an  elder  brother  of  James  W.  Wallack,  becoming  that  year  a 
partner  of  Freeman  in  the  management  of  the  old  Chatham  Garden  Theatre. 
James  W.  Wallack  made  his  first  appearance  in  this  country  at  the  Park  Theatre 
under  the  management  of  Messrs.  Price  and  Simpson  on  Sept.  7,  1818,  as  Mac- 
beth. The  first  theatre  to  come  under  his  management  was  the  National,  on  the 
corner  of  Church  and  Leonard  Streets,  of  which  he  became  lessee  in  1837.  He 
engaged  a  very  strong  company,  and  his  theatre  became  the  rival  of  the  Park, 
which  had  hitherto  been  recognized  as  the  fashionable  theatre  of  the  city.  Before 
the  end  of  the  first  season  he  had  completely  established  the  National  as  New 
York's  leading  theatre. 

The  expenses  were,  of  course,  very  much  less  than  now,  the  salaries  of  the 
actors  and  actresses  being  ridiculously  small,  in  comparison  with  those  received 
by  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  same  rank  in  the  profession  to-day.  Lester 
Wallack,  as  stage  manager  and  leading  man,  received  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dollars  a  week.  William  Rufus  Blake,  considered  the  greatest  "old  man"  on 
the  stage,  sixty  dollars;  Mark  Smith,  thirty-five;  George  Holland,  a  sterling 
comedian  and  great  favorite,  twenty-five  dollars;  W.  R.  Floyd,  twenty  dollars; 
Mr.  Young,  twenty  dollars;  Charles  Fisher,  well  known  in  later  years  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  famous  Daly  company,  forty  dollars;  Mrs.  John  Hoey,  the  leading 
lady,  one  hundred  dollars;  Miss  Mary  Gannon,  forty  dollars;  Mrs.  Vernon, 
thirty  dollars;  Miss  Fanny  Morant,  thirty  dollars;  Mrs.  John  Sefton,  twenty-five 
dollars,  and  Miss  Henriques,  her  first  season  on  the  stage,  eighteen  dollars.  The 
total  salary  list  amounted  to  $880  a  week,  and  the  total  expenses,  including  the 
band,  which  cost  $208,  and  all  attaches,  were  $1,426.00. 

It  was  in  the  fall  of  1863  that  the  play  of  "Rosedale,"  written  by  Lester 
Wallack,  was  first  produced.  It  ran  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  nights,  an 
almost  unprecedented  achievement.  It  averaged  $750,  which  at  present  prices 
would  be  in  excess  of  $1,800  a  performance. 

In  the  spring  of  1874  H.  J.  Montague  came  to  this  country  on  a  visit.  Lester 
Wallack  was  playing  an  engagement  in  Brooklyn,  and  had  his  yacht,  the  Colum- 
bia, anchored  in  Gowanus  Bay,  returning  to  her  each  night  after  the  performance. 
Dion  Boucicault,  who  was  at  that  time  engaged  in  writing  "The  Shaughraun," 
frequently  visited  Mr.  Wallack  on  the  yacht,  and  on  one  occasion  he  asked  the 
latter's  permission  to  bring  Mr.  Montague,  which  was  gladly  granted,  and  from 


[168] 


COPYRIGHT,   1913,    H    C  BROWN 


£>ttttt  (EmrH  of  Nero  $crk.   Abrnrt  1350 

1.  Etft  ©traiubrrru  (Sirl  3.   SIi?  Ka&talf  (Sirl 

2.  ullje  (ttlam-arlUr  4.   Stye  &tiBB0ra-ijrinbfr 


ELSEWHERE  WE  HAVE  DESCRIBED  THIS  CURIOUS  PHASE  OF  CITY 
LIFE  WHICH  HAS  NOW  TOTALLY  DISAPPEARED-  THERE  STILL  RE- 
MAINS A  SUGGESTION  OF  THIS  CUSTOM  IN  THE  FEW  PEDDLERS' 
WAGONS  WHICH  PERVADE  THE  OUTLYING  SECTIONS  AND  NEARBY 
SUBURBS  OF  THE  CITY. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR,  W.  0 •  SNOW 


Hakey  Montague  Joins  "Wallace's" 


that  visit  began  the  affectionate  intimacy  that  ever  after  existed  between  them. 

I  was  present  on  that  occasion,  and  during  the  dinner  the  subject  of  Mr. 
Montague  accepting  an  engagement  as  leading  man  at  Wallack's  was  mooted. 
Montague  requested  a  day  to  think  it  over,  and  two  days  after  came  by  appoint- 
ment to  Wallack's  Theatre  and  expressed  his  desire  to  become  a  member  of  the 
company.  The  salary  question  was  raised  and  Montague  asked  what  Charles 
Mathews'  monthly  salary  had  been  while  a  member  of  Wallack's.  Wallack  an- 
swered, "Five  hundred  dollars."  "Well,"  said  Montague,  "I  think  I  am  worth  half 
as  much  as  Mathews;  don't  you,  Mr.  Wallack?"  Wallack  thought  so,  too,  and 
Montague's  salary  was  placed  at  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

"Montie,"  as  he  was  affectionately  called  by  his  intimates,  was  equally  at  home 
in  the  drawing  room,  behind  the  scenes,  or  in  his  club,  and  popular  everywhere. 
Women,  both  young  and  old,  raved  over  him,  and  as  a  matinee  idol,  during  the 
four  short  years  of  his  life  in  New  York,  he  reigned  without  a  rival. 

It  seems  strange,  but  in  all  the  notices  I  have  had  of  my  father's  theatrical 
career,  I  have  never  seen  in  print  the  reason  for  his  coming  to  this  country.  He 
had  a  reason,  and  a  good  one,  apart  from  the  fact  that  his  father  had  already  firmly 
established  himself  as  a  New  York  favorite.  Madame  Vestris  had  seen  "Mr. 
Lester"  in  Dublin  and  recommended  him  to  Benjamin  Webster,  then  manager  of 
the  Haymarket,  London,  as  a  most  promising  young  actor.  The  result  was  that 
he  became  a  member  of  the  famed  Haymarket  company. 

Like  all  young  actors,  he  was  ambitious,  and  as  play  after  play  was  pro- 
duced without  his  services  being  called  upon,  he  conceived  that  he  was  not  being 
well  treated,  and  complained  to  the  management,  demanding  that  he  have  a  chance 
to  appear  before  a  London  audience,  the  ambition  of  every  young  actor  then  as 
now.  But  his  pleading  was  in  vain,  Leigh  Murray  being  chosen  for  the  parts  he 
deemed  by  right  belonged  to  him.  He  therefore  wrote  to  Webster  tendering  his 
resignation,  which  was  accepted  after  a  somewhat  wordjr  war.  He  came  to  New 
York  immediately  after  and  made  his  appearance  at  the  Broadway  Theatre  as  Sir 
Charles  Coldstream  in  "Used  Up."  Although  he  visited  England  several  times 
afterward,  it  was  never  in  a  professional  way. 

The  year  1880  was  a  notable  one  for  the  number  of  American  actors  that  made 
their  appearance  before  London  audiences.  To  begin  with,  on  April  26,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  McKee  Rankin,  supported  by  an  American  company,  made  their  first  ap- 
pearance in  "The  Danites."  The  papers  spoke  highly  of  the  company  in  general, 
especially  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rankin  and  Mr.  Holland,  while  the  play  was  pro- 
nounced "interesting  and  well  proportioned."  On  July  19  Mr.  John  T.  Raymond 
made  his  bow  to  a  London  audience  at  the  Gaiety  Theatre  as  Col.  Mulberry 
Sellers  in  a  dramatization  of  Mark  Twain's  "Gilded  Age."  The  plajr  itself  was 
a  failure,  but  Mr.  Raymond  made  a  distinct  personal  success  by  his  quaint  and 
humorous  portrayal  of  the  character  of  Sellers.  Two  weeks  later  at  the  same 
theatre  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  J.  Florence  made  their  appearance  in  "The  Mighty 


[171] 


American  Actors  Successfully  Invade  England,  1880 


Antonio  Me.  Clifford 

Marco  Mr.  Harwood 


Dollar."  On  October  21  Mr.  Boucicault  opened  at  the  Adelphi  in  his  own  drama, 
"The  ODowd."  On  November  20  Mr.  Florence  made  his  appearance  at  the 
Gaiety  Theatre  as  Captain  Cuttle  in  a  dramatization  of  Dickens's  "Dombey  &  Son." 
On  November  6  Edwin  Booth  made  his  appearance  in  London  for  the  first  time 
in  nineteen  years.  The  occasion  was  the  opening  of  the  new  Princess  Theatre,  the 
old  house  having  been  torn  down  and  a  new  one  built.  The  play  was,  of  course, 
"Plamlet,"  a  character  which  Mr.  Booth  had  made  peculiarly  his  own  in  this  coun- 
try. His  next  impersonation  was  Bertuccio  in  "The  Fool's  Revenge,"  and 
served  to  firnuy  establish  him  in  the  public  favor,  everyone  agreeing  as  to  the 
extraordinary  versatility  and  flexibility  of  his  art.  The  following  year,  in  May, 
1881,  Mr.  Booth  appeared  at  the  Lyceum  in  connection  with  Mr.  Irving,  the  play 
being  "Othello,"  in  which  they  alternated  the  parts  of  Othello  and  lago.  The  rest 
of  the  cast  was  as  follows: 

Cassio  Mr.  Wm.  Terriss         Messenger  Mr.  Mathison 

Brabantio  Me.  Mead         paui0  Mr.  Ferrand 

Roderigo  Mr.  Arthur  W.  Pinero 

Duke  Mr.  Beaumont 

Montano  Mr.  Ttaes 

Gratiano  Mr.  Carter         Emilia  Miss  Pauncefote 

Lodovico  Mr.  Hudson         Desdemona  Miss  Ellen  Terry 

Mr.  Booth  appeared  again  in  London  at  the  Adelphi  Theatre,  in  June,  1822. 
He  produced  "Richelieu,"  "The  Fool's  Revenge"  and  "Don  Caesar  de  Bazan."  In 
his  company  was  also  Mr.  Eben  Plympton. 

The  original  Browne's  Chop  House  was  on  Fourth  Avenue,  just  opposite  the 
stage  door  of  Wallack's  Theatre,  then  at  Thirteenth  Street  and  Broadway.  It  was 
owned  by  George  F.  Browne,  who  at  that  time  was  a  member  of  the  Wallack 
Company.  He  had  in  former  years  been  attached  to  a  circus  and  had  been  famous 
as  a  trick  rider  of  horses.  The  chop  house  became  a  rendezvous  of  actors  and 
men-about-town,  and  was  widely  known  for  its  Welsh  rarebits,  chops  and  old  Eng- 
lish ale.  As  a  member  of  the  stock  company  he  played  small  parts,  and  for  many 
years  he  was  attached  to  the  theatre. 

In  those  days  it  was  customary  upon  the  opening  night  of  the  season  for  each 
actor  and  actress  to  receive  a  welcome  from  the  audience,  which  was  great  or 
small  according  to  their  popularity. 

It  so  happened  that  "Money"  was  the  piece  chosen  for  the  opening.  Browne 
played  the  part  of  the  lawyer  who  reads  the  will  in  the  first  act.  He  does  not 
make  his  appearance  until  near  the  end  of  the  act,  and  after  all  the  other  charac- 
ters are  on  the  stage.  As  he  came  on  with  his  lawyer's  bag  under  his  arm,  he 
was  at  once  recognized  by  the  boys  in  the  gallery,  one  of  whom  shouted,  "Two 
chops  and  a  rarebit,  George!" 

Charles  Wyndham  (now  Sir  Charles)  made  his  appearance  as  a  member  of 
the  company  during  the  season  of  1869-70.  He  played  Charles  Surface  in  "The 
School  for  Scandal,"  with  a  dash  and  a  go  that  had  not  been  seen  for  years,  and 
firmly  established  himself  as  a  favorite.    He  appeared  also  in  "The  Lancers." 

[172] 


Murray  g-trrrt  About  1350 


SHOWING  THE  OLD  FIRM  OF  KEMP.  DAY  &  CO..  WHO  DATE  BACK  TO 
1833.  AND  ARE  THE  OLDEST  FIRM  IN  THEIR  LINE  IN  NEW  YORK 
THEIR  WALL  STREET  STORE.  ESTABLISHED  BY  AARON  KEMP  IN  1833. 
IS  THE  OLDEST  BUILDING  IN  THAT  STREET  CONTINUOUSLY  OCCU- 
PIED BY  THE  SAME  FIRM 

FROM    THE   COLLECTION    OF  MR.  SIDNEY  THURSBY. 


Famous  Cast  in  "School  for  Scandal,"  1874 


My  father  had  been  told  that  there  was  a  young  girl  of  great  promise  playing 
the  part  of  Esmeralda  in  the  "Hunchback  of  Notre  Dame"  at  the  Lyceum  (now 
the  Fourteenth  Street  Theatre),  and  he  sent  me  over  to  see  the  performance  and 
report  upon  it.  As  it  was  the  first  time  I  had  been  entrusted  with  so  important  a 
mission  I  was  not  a  little  gratified.  My  report  was  evidently  favorable,  for  my 
father  sent  for  the  lady  and  offered  her  an  engagement,  which  she  accepted.  The 
lady  was  Miss  Jeffreys  Lewis.  She  made  her  appearance  in  Foote's  comedy,  "The 
Liar,"  and  received  a  most  gratifying  reception,  remaining  for  some  seasons  a  val- 
ued and  favorite  member  of  the  company. 

On  March  19,  1874,  Lester  Wallack  and  Augustin  Daly  united  in  giving  a 
grand  charity  benefit.  The  play  chosen  was  "The  School  for  Scandal"  and  the 
place  the  Academy  of  Music.  The  cast  was  one  which  has  never  been  equalled  on 
this  or  any  other  continent,  and  probably  never  will  be.  As  it  may  prove  of 
interest,  I  give  it  in  full: 

Sir  Peter  Teazle  Johx  Gilbert         Snake  J.  W.  Carroll 

Sir  Oliver  Surface  John  Brougham         Joseph  Surface's  Servant  J.  W.  Peck 

Charles  Surface  Lester  Wallack         Sir  Harry  Bumper  C.  E.  Edwin 

Joseph  Surface  Charles  Fisher         Lady  Sneerwell's  Servant  F.  Chapman 

Crabtree  W.  Davtdge         Lady  Candour  Miss  Fanny  Morant 

Moses  Harry  Beckett         Lady  Teazle  Miss  Madeline  Hexriques 

Careless  (with  song)  Edwin  Arnott  (Mrs.  L.  J.  Jennings) 

Trip  George  L.  Fox         Lady  Sneerwell  Madame  Ponisi 

Sir  Benjamin  Backbite  Louis  James         Maria  Miss  Dora  Goldthwaite 

Rowley  D.  Whiting         Maid  Miss  Griffiths 

Add  to  this  that  between  the  acts  Pauline  Lucca  introduced  two  charming 
songs  with  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  as  an  encore.   The  results  were  $6,274.00. 

On  the  same  evening  Edwin  Booth  opened  his  new  theatre  at  the  south- 
west corner  of  Sixth  Avenue  and  Twenty-third  Street,  appearing  as  Romeo, 
his  wife,  Mary  McVickar,  as  Juliet.  The  play  was  produced  in  the  most  lavish 
manner. 

At  that  time  my  boyhood  chum  was  Digby  Bell,  or,  as  he  was  affectionately 
known  to  the  members  of  our  family,  all  of  whom  were  much  attached  to  him, 
"Kibbie."  He  was  then  a  handsome,  bright  boy,  full  of  life  and  fun,  and  with  an 
especial  fondness  for  the  stage.  He  had  two  idols  whom  he  had  placed  upon  ped- 
estals,— Edwin  Booth  and  Lester  Wallack, — and  I  remember  how  in  the  fervor 
of  his  admiration  he  used  to  say  that  if  he  ever  went  upon  the  stage  he  would 
take  the  name  of  Lester  Booth.  Hero  Worship,  Mr.  Carlyle,  could  scarce  go 
further  than  that!  Little  did  he  think  then  that  the  day  would  come  when  he 
would  be  one  of  our  foremost  comedians  and  a  favorite  both  on  and  off  the  stage. 

My  father,  on  the  evening  in  question,  knowing  that  I  was  in  front,  sent  for 
me  to  come  to  his  dressing  rooms,  and  I  was  admitted  to  the  sacred  precincts 
"behind  the  scenes."  He  gave  me  a  note  to  take  to  Mr.  Booth,  in  which  he 
congratulated  him  on  the  opening  of  his  theatre  and  wished  him  success  in  his 
management.  Kibbie  and  I  were  two  proud  boys  as  we  went  up  town,  messen- 
gers of  good  will  from  Lester  Wallack  to  Edwin  Booth,  for  I  confess  I  shared 
with  him  in  his  adulation. 


[175] 


Founding  or  the  Lambs  Club 


The  note  was  duly  delivered  and  we  were  entrusted  with  one  from  Mr.  Booth 
in  which  he  returned  my  father's  good  wishes.  We  remained  to  see  the  first  act 
and  were  witnesses  of  a  somewhat  unfortunate  occurrence.  As  Mr.  Booth  was 
making  his  exit  after  the  balcony  scene,  he  tripped  and  fell.  A  suppressed 
murmur  went  through  the  house,  and  there  were  many  who  looked  upon  the 
accident  as  an  augury  of  ill-fortune,  and  so  unhappily  it  proved,  for,  after  a  few 
seasons,  Mr.  Booth  was  obliged  to  relinquish  the  management  and  the  theatre  came 
into  the  hands  of  Jarrett  and  Palmer. 

It  was  at  Christmas  time  this  year  that  the  Lambs  Club  was  founded.  George 
McLean,  a  close  friend  of  mine,  used  to  spend  much  of  his  time  with  me  in  my 
office  at  the  theatre,  and  in  that  way  came  to  know  Montague,  Beckett  and 
Arnott.  Desirous  of  showing  his  appreciation  of  their  friendship,  he  gave  a 
little  supper  in  their  honor,  in  the  historic  blue  room  at  Delmonico's,  then  at 
Fourteenth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue.  We  had  such  a  delightful  evening  that 
it  was  proposed  that  we  should  meet  once  a  month,  and  that  each  of  us  should 
have  the  privilege  of  inviting  one  guest.  As  "Del's"  was  somewhat  expensive 
for  our  limited  means,  I  was  appointed  a  committee  of  one  to  find  a  more  suit- 
able meeting  place. 

This  being  decided  upon,  it  was  then  proposed  that  we  give  ourselves  a  name. 
Many  were  submitted,  but  it  was  not  until  Mr.  Montague  told  us  of  a  club  he 
had  belonged  to  in  London  and  which  was  called  "The  Lambs"  that  we  finally 
decided  upon  that  title.  So  the  "Lambs"  we  called  ourselves  and  the  "Lambs"  we 
have  been  ever  since.  From  occupying  a  room  once  a  week  for  meetings  and 
once  a  month  for  supper  to  a  superb  clubhouse  on  Forty-fourth  Street,  with  a 
thousand  members,  is  somewhat  of  a  growth. 

The  season  of  1875-76  at  Wallack's  opened  with  the  "Overland  Route."  It 
was  an  elaborate  production  in  its  way,  and  a  scene  representing  the  deck  of  a  ship 
at  sea  was  a  credit  to  the  stage  carpenters.  The  deck  was  raised  from  the  stage 
about  two  or  three  feet,  and  by  a  clever  mechanical  contrivance  it  was  made  to 
rock  gently  in  a  most  realistic  manner,  so  much  so  that  one  of  the  women  of  the  cast 
complained  that  it  made  her  seasick.  When  it  was  done  in  "Brewster's  Millions" 
a  few  seasons  ago  it  was  considered  a  great  novelty!  The  ship  is  supposed  to  be 
wrecked  upon  an  uninhabited  island,  and  when  it  struck,  the  supports  upon  one 
side  were  removed,  causing  the  deck  to  assume  an  angle  approaching  forty-five  de- 
grees. This  was  done  so  suddenly  on  the  first  night  that  dear  old  John  Gilbert, 
taken  by  surprise,  slid  from  one  side  to  the  other  in  a  most  undignified  manner 
and  greatly  to  his  disgust.  Nothing  like  that  slide  was  ever  seen  on  a  ball  field! 
What  he  said  to  the  stage  hands  after  the  end  of  the  act  is  better  imagined  than 
described.  When  it  came  to  cuss  words,  Edwin  Forrest  had  nothing  on  John  Gil- 
bert.  Nor  did  even  Edwin  Eddy,  also  a  past  master  in  un-Biblical  diction. 

On  the  night  of  December  31st,  after  the  audience  had  been  dismissed,  I 
managed,  I  forget  now  upon  what  pretext,  to  inveigle  my  father,  who  was  not 


[  176  ] 


SITE  NOW  COVERED  WITH  PRIVATE  RESIDENCES. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  H,  0.  BABCOCK. 


"Surprise  Party"  for  Mr.  Wallace: 


acting,  from  his  office  in  front  of  the  house  into  going  back  on  the  stage.  The 
curtain  had  been  lowered  and  the  house  darkened,  but  as  soon  as  he  entered  the 
auditorium  the  lights  were  turned  on  again,  the  band  struck  up  "Hail  to  the 
Chief"  and  the  curtain  slowly  rising  disclosed  the  whole  company,  all  the  em- 
ployees, and  down  centre  of  the  stage  a  table  with  what  appeared  to  be  a  draped 
figure  upon  it.  My  father  was  escorted  by  Montague  to  the  stage,  too  astonished 
to  speak,  but  no  doubt  with  an  inkling  that  something  unusual  was  up. 

Dear  old  John  Gilbert  then,  in  a  speech  in  which  his  voice  broke  more  than 
once,  spoke  touchingly  of  the  years  many  of  them  had  served  under  the  manage- 
ment of  Mr.  Wallack  and  his  father,  of  their  appreciation  of  his  kindness  and 
courtesy  upon  all  occasions  and  ended  by  begging  him  to  accept  from  them  this 
evidence  of  their  affection  and  esteem  for  him  "as  manager,  actor  and  friend." 
He  then  uncovered  a  magnificent  silver  epergne,  standing  upon  a  base  of  ebony, 
upon  which,  in  silver  plates,  were  inscribed  the  names  of  all  the  donors.  For 
once  "the  governor"  was  knocked  clean  off  his  perch,  and  it  was  some  moments 
before  he  could  sufficiently  pull  himself  together  to  reply.  But  he  did  in  a 
speech  that  brought  the  house  down,  and  perhaps  we  didn't  make  a  night  of  it! 
I  know  it  was  nearing  daylight  before  "Montie,"  Harry  Beckett,  Charlie  Steven- 
son and  myself  parted  company — I  have  forgotten  just  how  and  where,  we  parted. 

On  Friday,  August  9,  1878,  on  the  occasion  of  his  benefit,  when  the  largest 
audience  that  had  yet  filled  the  California  Theatre,  during  the  management  of 
Barton  and  Lawlor,  was  present,  poor  "Montie"  was  unable  to  proceed  with  his  part 
of  Lord  Arthur  Chilton  in  "False  Shame"  after  having  been  on  the  stage  but 
fifteen  minutes.  The  curtain  was  rung  down,  an  apology  made,  and  the  play 
proceeded  with  F.  B.  Warde  assuming  Mr.  Montague's  part.  Montague  was  taken 
to  his  dressing  room,  and  physicians  were  summoned  from  the  audience  to  his  as- 
sistance. He  had  a  severe  hemorrhage,  and  it  was  some  time  before  he  was  suf- 
ficiently recovered  to  be  removed  to  his  rooms  at  the  Palace  Hotel.  He  remained  in 
bed  until  Sunday,  when,  feeling  better,  he  got  up  and  dressed.  During  that  after- 
noon, Mr.  Warde  and  Mr.  Carroll  were  chatting  with  him,  and  when  the  dinner 
hour  arrived  he  insisted  upon  their  remaining  and  dining  with  him.  He  seemed 
then  to  be  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  his  conversation  was  hearty  and  hopeful. 
While  dinner  was  being  served  the  doctor  arrived,  and  going  with  him  into  the 
bedroom,  Mr.  Montague  submitted  to  an  examination.  In  the  best  possible 
humor  he  returned  to  his  friends,  and  with  great  glee  slapped  his  chest  and 
cried  out,  "It's  all  right,  boys!  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  my  lungs!  The 
verdict  is  not  guilty!"  Only  a  few  minutes  after  he  complained  of  a  feeling  of 
suffocation,  and  staggering  into  his  bedroom,  called  for  ice.  Almost  immediately 
the  terrible  hemorrhages  began.  The  doctors  were  summoned  at  once.  In  vain 
did  his  friends  minister  to  him  in  every  possible  way.  By  this  time,  Mr. 
Shannon,  Miss  Grainger  and  Mrs.  Shannon  had  joined  Mr.  Warde  and  Mr. 
Carroll,  and  were  gathered  about  the  bedside  of  the  poor  sufferer.  Touched  by 
their  kindness,  and  by  the  anxious  looks  of  grief  in  their  faces,  he  looked  up  at 


[179] 


Death  and  Funeral  of  .Harry  Montague 


them  and  in  tones  growing  fainter  and  fainter,  said,  "It's  no  use.  I  am  going,  boys. 
God  bless  you  all."  The  doctors  arrived  but  it  was  too  late,  and  at  five  minutes 
past  nine  on  Sunday  evening,  August  11,  1878,  our  poor,  dear  "Montie"  passed 
away.  Out  of  respect  to  his  memory  the  California  Theatre  was  closed  on  Mon- 
day evening  following  his  death.  It  was  decided  to  disband  the  company,  but  I 
think  this  idea  was  abandoned  and  Maurice  Barrymore  was  engaged  to  play 
Montague's  part. 

The  first  intimation  I  received  of  his  death  was  at  the  West  End  Hotel,  Long 
Branch,  when  I  received  a  telegram  which  I  have  by  me  now,  signed  T.  W. 
Carroll,  F.  B.  Warde  and  J.  W.  Shannon,  saying,  "Our  dear  Montague  died  at 
nine  to-night;  his  last  words,  'It's  no  use;  God  bless  you  all.'  "  I  was  about  to  join 
a  party  going  to  the  White  Mountains,  in  which  were  several  who  were  well 
known  to  Montague,  and  who,  upon  hearing  the  sad  news,  at  once  decided  to 
postpone  their  trip  until  after  the  funeral. 

As  both  my  father  and  Mr.  Boucicault  were  away,  I  went  at  once  to  Mr. 
Moss,  and  we  telegraphed  to  San  Francisco  to  have  the  body  sent  on  and  that 
Mr.  Simon,  an  old  friend  of  Mr.  Montague,  would  meet  it  at  Chicago.  In  the 
meantime  Mr.  Wallack  and  Mr.  Boucicault  arrived  from  Newport,  where  they 
had  been  on  their  boats,  and  they  at  once  made  arrangements  for  the  funeral, 
which  it  was  decided  should  take  place  from  the  Church  of  the  Transfiguration 
("The  Little  Church  Around  the  Corner"),  and  that  tickets  should  be  issued  to 
those  desiring  to  be  present.  The  demand  was  so  enormous  that  we  were  obliged 
to  limit  the  number. 

A  delegation  from  the  Lambs  Club,  of  which  he  was  the  Shepherd,  consisting 
of  Mr.  Beckett,  Mr.  Grainger  and  several  others,  met  the  body  at  the  Grand 
Central  Station.  The  church  was  crowded  and  there  were  thousands  outside  in 
the  grounds  and  the  street.  The  services  were  most  impressive  and  there  were 
many  who  were  unable  to  control  their  feelings.  There  was  a  large  crowd  pres- 
ent at  the  interment,  which  was  in  Greenwood  Cemetery  in  our  lot,  and  there  his 
dear  friend  and  companion  lies  side  by  side  with  Lester  Wallack,  who  died  ten 
years  later. 

Montague's  right  name  was  Harry  J.  Mann.  He  was  born  in  London  in 
1840,  and  was  therefore  thirty-eight  years  old  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He  was 
originally  a  clerk  in  an  insurance  office,  but  he  had  always  had  a  great  liking  for 
the  stage  and  belonged  to  an  amateur  dramatic  club,  which  counted  Henry  Irving 
also  among  its  members.  His  fondness  for  the  profession  led  him  to  become 
private  secretary  to  Dion  Boucicault,  who  gave  him  his  first  chance  on  the  stage 
in  the  part  of  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  in  the  play  of  "Jeanie  Deans." 
His  rise  was  rapid.  Possessed  of  a  handsome  stage  presence,  and  with  an  irre- 
sistible charm  of  manner,  it  was  not  long  before  he  became  the  foremost  "jeune 
premier"  in  England.  He  was  associated  with  Thome  and  James  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  Vaudeville,  London,  and  later  became  manager  of  the  Globe  Theatre. 

Of  his  coming  to  this  country  on  a  visit  and  his  subsequent  engagement  and 
appearance  at  Wallack's,  I  have  already  written. 


[180] 


THE  SOUTH  PORTICO  OF  COLUMBIA  COLLEGE.  ABOUT  1  874.  SHOW- 
ING GROUP  OF  STUDENTS.  SOME  WITH  THE  THEN  POPULAR  SILK 
HAT     A  VERY  RARE  PHOTOGRAPH 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF  MR.  H.  D  BABCOCK 


The  Little  Church  Around  the  Corner 


I  know  that  he  had  great  hope  of  being  manager  of  a  theatre  in  New  York, 
though  he  desired  the  matter  kept  a  secret  until  his  return  from  California. 
There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that  had  he  lived  he  would  have  been  the  manager  of 
the  Park  Theatre,  at  that  time  on  the  east  side  of  Broadway  near  Twenty-second 
Street. 

Montague's  temperament  and  personality  peculiarly  fitted  him  for  a  certain 
line  of  parts,  of  a  light  and  elegant  character,  which  no  actor  since  has  filled  quite 
so  satisfactorily.  It  was  in  the  modern  Robertsonian  comedy  that  he  shone.  In 
such  parts  as  D'Alroy  in  "Caste,"  Lord  Beaufoy  in  "School,"  and  Captain  Moty- 
neuoc  in  "The  Shaughraun,"  a  part  which  Boucicault  wrote  for  him,  he  was  delight- 
ful. Of  his  private  life  I  can  say  as  his  constant  companion  for  four  years  that  it 
was  most  exemplary.  He  never  dissipated,  and  found  his  greatest  pleasure  in 
spending  such  time  as  he  could  spare  from  his  business  quietly  at  his  home  or  in 
visiting  the  many  friends  he  had  made  while  here.  He  was  a  regular  attendant 
at  the  church  from  which  he  was  buried  and  where  our  family  had  a  pew.  He 
spent  his  summers  at  our  place  in  Stamford,  and  we  shared  the  same  room. 

Like  the  present-day  "matinee  idol,"  but  more  so,  Montague  was  much  ad- 
mired by  the  fair  sex,  and  I  frequently,  after  a  matinee,  was  obliged  to  let  him 
out  by  the  front  door  of  the  theatre  in  order  that  he  might  escape  a  crowd  of 
women  collected  at  the  stage  door  on  Fourth  Avenue.  His  favorite  flower  was 
the  violet,  and  one  persistent  admirer  sent  him  a  bouquet  of  those  flowers  every 
Saturday.  This  was  kept  up  for  two  years.  At  first  he  paid  little  attention  to 
it,  but  after  a  while  his  curiosity  being  aroused,  he  enlisted  my  services  to  aid  him 
in  finding  out  who  the  sender  was.  Our  efforts  were  in  vain,  for  though  the  flow- 
ers continued  to  arrive  with  never-ending  regularity,  we  were  never  able  to  trace 
the  source  from  which  they  came.  When  we  went  to  Boston,  where  he  played 
at  the  Boston  Museum,  he  received  on  his  first  night  a  box  containing  the  usual 
bunch  of  violets,  and  every  morning  thereafter  at  the  Parker  House,  where  we 
stopped,  a  similar  box  would  arrive.  Whether  he  ever  eventually  ascertained  who 
the  donor  was  I  do  not  know,  but  I  don't  think  he  did.  There  was  a  huge  bunch 
of  violets  placed  on  his  grave  on  the  day  of  his  funeral  and  I  have  always  thought 
they  were  sent  by  the  fair  unknown. 

Montague  was  never  carried  away  by  the  adulation  he  received  and  it  is  to 
his  credit  that  during  the  four  years  of  his  professional  life  in  this  country  his 
name  was  never  connected,  directly  or  indirectly,  with  any  unpleasant  gossip.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  gentle  and  lovable  natures  that  I  have  ever  met,  and  I  am 
happy  to  have  the  opportunity  of  paying  this  slight  tribute  of  love  and  esteem  to 
his  memory. 

On  the  night  of  September  5th,  1888,  I  heard  my  father  walking  restlessly 
up  and  down  his  room,  and  I  thought  once  or  twice  that  I  heard  him  groan.  I 
knocked  at  his  door,  and  called  to  him,  "What's  the  matter,  Dad;  are  you  ill?" 
"No,  my  dear  boy,  only  a  little  wakeful.  Go  to  bed.  I'm  all  right."  The  follow- 
ing morning  I  went  into  his  room  as  was  always  my  custom  and  found  him  sit- 


[183] 


Curtain  for  Lester  Wallack 


ting  up  in  bed.  He  asked  for  the  paper  and  I  called  to  my  brother  to  bring  it.  I 
then  left  him  for  the  purpose  of  going  to  the  end  of  the  pier  on  our  property 
to  catch  a  few  tomcod,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  for  his  breakfast.  I  had  but 
taken  a  few  steps  from  his  room  when  my  brother  called  me  back.  I  returned 
to  find  my  father  looking  wildly  about  him  and  asking  for  the  editorial  sheet  of 
the  paper,  which  was  in  his  hand.  In  another  moment  he  threw  up  his  arms  and 
fell  back  in  convulsions.  ...  As  the  end  approached  and  he  became  weaker,  I 
went  to  my  mother's  room  and  led  her  to  his  side,  to  take  a  farewell  after  forty 
years.  A  moment  later  I  took  my  father's  handsome  head,  crowned  with  its 
silver  curls,  in  my  arms,  and  so  he  breathed  his  last,  passing  most  peacefully  away. 

His  funeral  took  place  on  September  16  from  "The  Little  Church  Around 
the  Corner"  in  West  Twenty-ninth  Street.  At  an  early  hour  that  morning  we 
left  Stamford  by  a  special  train.  On  arrival  at  the  Grand  Central  Depot  we 
found  it  so  crowded  that  it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  we  managed  to  force 
our  way  through  the  dense  mass  of  people.  My  poor  mother  fainted  and  had  to 
be  carried  to  her  carriage.  I  could  see  that  the  streets  were  lined  with  people 
all  the  way  from  Forty-second  Street.  When  we  reached  West  Twenty-ninth 
Street,  it  was  so  crowded  that  it  was  only  through  the  exertions  of  the  police  that 
we  managed  to  enter  the  church.  Even  the  roofs  of  houses  were  packed  with 
people,  and  as  the  Evening  Post  for  that  date  remarked:  "The  house  tops,  stoops 
and  windows  were  one  mass  of  spectators.  And  it  could  be  seen  that  no  building 
in  this  city  would  have  held  the  friends  and  acquaintances  of  Lester  Wallack,  who 
wished  to  pay  their  last  respects."  The  pall  bearers  were  Joseph  Jefferson,  Wm. 
J.  Florence,  R.  M.  Field,  Henry  E.  Abbey,  A.  M.  Palmer,  Leonard  Jerome, 
Steele  Mackaye,  Abram  S.  Hewitt,  Judge  J.  R.  Brady,  Judge  A.  J.  Dittenhoefer, 
Alexander  Taylor,  Sr.,  George  A.  Freeman,  Edmund  Stanton,  and  John  A.  Stow. 
At  the  request  of  many  of  his  old  friends  and  with  the  consent  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Houghton,  the  casket  was  opened  in  the  churchyard  in  order  that  they  might  look, 
for  the  last  time,  upon  the  features  so  dear  to  them  in  life.  The  temporary  inter- 
ment took  place  in  Woodlawn,  in  the  presence  of  some  five  or  six  hundred  people. 
Some  months  later,  I  found  there  was  room  in  our  plot  in  Greenwood,  so  I  had 
the  body  removed,  and  there  he  lies,  by  his  father,  and  close  to  his  friend,  Harry 
J.  Montague. 

JOE  JEFFERSON 

The  Joe  Jefferson  referred  to  under  the  John  Street  Methodist  Church,  on 
page  101,  was  the  grandfather  of  our  Joe. 


[184] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H    C  BROWN 


®ljr  Sbturlattiirr  t^omt  in  Utlltam  S>trrrt 


THE  ORIGINAL  HOME  OF  THE  RHINE  LANDERS  AT  228  WILLIAM 
STREET.  ABOUT  I  725 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION    OF   MR    LISPENARO  STEWART. 


FOOTLIGHT  FAVORITES  OF  THIRTY  YEARS  AGO 

Memories  of  the  Old  Lyceum,  the  Madison  Square,  W attack's,  the  Star,  the  Stan- 
dard, the  Casino,  the  Bijou,  Niblo's  Garden,  the  Fourteenth  Street,  the  Park, 
the  Academy  of  Music,  Fifth  Avenue,  Daly's  Union  Square  and  Grand 
Opera  House,  Harrigan  §  Hart's,  Tony  Pastor's,  the  Bowery,  Etc. 

Early  in  the  '80s  Daly's  Theatre  was  the  leading  attraction  in  town,  and  the 
social  season  was  opened  only  when  Daly's  First  Night  was  announced.  No  matter 
where  else  you  might  go,  Daly's  was  the  one  place  in  New  York  where  you  had  to 
be  seen  to  be  reckoned  of  some  social  account. 

And  a  brilliant  company  he  had!  It  included  in  its  palmy  days  the  never-to- 
be-forgotten  Ada  Rehan,  the  beautiful  Edith  Kingdon,  charming  Virginia  Dreher, 
the  lithesome  (in  those  days)  May  Irwin,  and  dear  old  Mrs.  Gilbert.  Kitty 
Cheatham,  Mary  Mannering,  Julie  Opp,  Clara  Morris  and  other  brilliant  per- 
formers were  in  the  cast  from  time  to  time,  and  the  men  folks  included  such  finished 
actors  as  John  Gilbert,  James  Lewis,  John  Drew,  Otis  Skinner,  George  Parkes, 
William  Gilbert,  augmented  from  time  to  time  by  other  equally  capable  artists  such 
as  Richard  Mansfield,  Henry  Miller,  Walden  Ramsay,  W.  J.  LeMoyne  and  many 
others. 

It  was  just  about  the  beginning  of  "star"  days,  but  the  custom  had  not  then 
reached  the  proportions  it  did  a  few  years  later.  John  Drew,  Henry  Miller,  Richard 
Mansfield,  Rose  Coghlan,  Ada  Rehan,  Edith  Kingdon  and  others  of  similar  stand- 
ing were  content  to  act  in  one  company  where  all  were  featured  alike,  and  the 
stock  companies  at  the  Madison  Square  and  Wallack's  included  such  famous  names 
as  Ada  Dyas,  Mme.  Ponisi,  Maude  Harrison,  Annie  Russell,  Agnes  Booth,  Her- 
bert Kelcey,  Fanny  Davenport,  Annie  Robe,  Virginia  Dreher,  Effie  Germon, 
Sophie  Eyre,  Kathryn  Kidder,  Viola  Allen,  Effie  Ellsler,  Rosina  Vokes  and 
others. 

"Nancy  &  Co.,"  "7-20-8,"  "A  Night  Off"  and  other  light  farces  adapted  from 
the  German  were  a  feature  of  Daly's,  relieved  occasionally  by  magnificent  revivals 
of  Shakespeare's  comedies — "Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  "Katherine  and  Petru- 
chio,"  "Twelfth  Night" — in  which  Ada  Rehan,  John  Drew,  Miss  Kingdon  and 
Mr.  Skinner  gave  presentations  which  lingered  long  in  the  memory  of  those  privi- 
leged to  witness  them. 

Lester  Wallack  was  born  in  Hudson  Street,  this  city,  but  his  parents  removed 
to  England  when  he  was  only  a  few  weeks  old  and  he  was  nearly  twenty-five  years 
old  when  he  returned.  To  his  last  breath  he  was  as  devoted  an  Englishman  as  was 
his  father.  Nothing  that  did  not  originate  in  England  was  ever  seriously  considered 
by  him,  and  most  of  his  company  were  imported  from  London.    He  was  one  of 


[187] 


Richard  Mansfield  Springs  into  Fame 


the  most  popular  actors  this  city  has  ever  possessed  and  was  highly  esteemed  in 
private  as  well  as  professional  life.  The  great  aping  of  all  things  English,  in 
society  at  that  time,  may  have  had  much  to  do  with  Wallack's  attitude.  But,  how- 
ever that  may  be,  "She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  "Rosedale,"  "Our  Boys"  and  dozens 
of  others  of  the  old  English  School  succeeded  in  establishing  Mr.  Wallack's  fame 
as  a  successful  actor  and  manager. 

At  the  Union  Square  between  Fourth  Avenue  and  Broadway — now  one  of 
Keith's  "Movies" — Richard  Mansfield  sprang  into  fame  and  fortune  in  one  night 
by  his  extraordinarily  effective  acting  in  the  "Parisian  Romance."  His  subsequent 
brilliant  career  is  too  well  known  to  require  repetition  here,  except  to  add 
that  the  critics  who  witnessed  that  performance  and  also  his  work  in  "Rip  Van 
Winkle"  (a  comic  opera,  by  the  way),  Sardou's  "Andrea"  and  finally  in  "Prince 
Karl"  made  bold  enough  to  say  that  it  seemed  to  them  that  Mr.  Mansfield  pos- 
sessed "the  sound  merit  of  originality." 

Mr.  Mansfield  not  only  realized  this  halting  prediction  but  proved  himself  the 
greatest  actor  on  our  stage.  But  what  is  more  important,  he  used  his  talents 
and  his  money  in  a  constant  endeavor  to  make  the  stage  what  it  should  be  and 
succeeded  to  a  remarkable  extent.  He  made  and  lost  fortunes  with  equal  equa- 
nimity. And  when  Mansfield  died,  the  American  stage  was  infinitely  richer  for 
his  living.  He  did  not  leave  the  fortune  that  some  other  popular  actors  did,  but 
if  he  had  been  content  to  wander  around  the  country  with  a  cheap  company  for 
thirty  or  forty  years  in  "Old  Heidelberg,"  "Beau  Brummel"  or  any  one  of  a 
dozen  plays,  as  they  did,  he  might  have  been  a  millionaire,  too. 

Across  town  on  Fourth  Avenue  near  Twenty-third  Street  stood  the  Lyceum. 
This  famous  theatre  was  erected  by  Steele  Mackaye  in  1885.  It  was  not  alone  the 
scene  of  many  historic  triumphs  but  to  me  is  particularly  interesting  as  the  first 
office  of  Gustave  Frohman.  He  was  the  eldest  and  the  pioneer  of  the  famous 
managers  of  that  name,  and  no  doubt  laid  the  foundations  of  the  eminence  to 
which  Daniel  and  Charles  were  afterwards  to  attain.  In  May,  1887,  Daniel  Froh- 
man's  first  production  occurred,  "The  Highest  Bidder,"  with  E.  H.  Sothern.  Here 
also  were  first  shown  the  joint  productions  of  Belasco  and  De  Mille,  and  of  De 
Mille  and  Bernard,  whose  production  of  "The  Main  Line"  had  an  extraordi- 
nary run.  "The  Charity  Ball,"  by  Belasco  and  De  Mille,  in  which  poor  Georgia 
Cavyan  made  such  a  tremendous  success,  was  also  given  here  and  ran  the  entire 
season.  Many  other  plays  at  this  old  house,  especially  Sothern  in  a  revival  of 
his  father's  famous  play  "Lord  Chumley,"  and  Anthony  Hope's  "Prisoner  of 
Zenda,"  added  to  his  fame.  The  Lyceum  was  considered  ultra-fashionable  in 
those  days  and  claimed  a  little  more  exclusive  patronage  than  was  accorded 
Daly's.  The  run  of  Helen  Dauvray  in  Bronson  Howard's  fine  comedy  "One  of 
Our  Girls"  extended  over  200  nights,  exceeding,  I  believe,  "The  Charity  Ball." 

Other  long  to  be  remembered  successes  were  "Editha's  Burglar"  (in  which 
Elsie  Leslie  made  her  first  appearance  after  "Lord  Fauntleroy" ) ,  "Sweet  Laven- 
der," "Squire  Kate,"  "Captain  Letterblair,"  "The  Case  of  Rebellious  Susan,"  "The 

[188] 


Heaiuu-H  of  &nmtg  at  ti\t  $nttr**8  Sail.  I860 


ELSEWHERE  WE  PRINT  THE  NAMES  OF  THE  LADIES  REPRESENTED 
IN  THE  ABOVE  PICTURE  IN  THE  COSTUMES  WORN  AT  THE  GREAT 
BALL  GIVEN  THE  LATE  KING  EDWARD.  WHEN  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 
AT  THE  OLD  ACADEMY  OF  MUSIC  IN  1  4th  STREET.  JUST  BEFORE  THE 
WAR 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  H    H.  CAMMANN. 


Miss  Bessie  Tyree,  Miss  Julie  Opp,  May  Mannering,  Etc. 


Moth  and  the  Flame,"  "Trelawney  of  the  Wells,"  "Merry  Gotham"  and  "The 
Wife" — the  latter  a  second  tremendous  success  of  Belasco  and  De  Mille. 

The  regular  company  was  reinforced  from  time  to  time  by  notable  acces- 
sions. Miss  Cayvan  was  the  leading  woman,  Herbert  Kelcey,  leading  man  in  the 
first  production.  They  were  joined  later  by  E.  H.  Sothern,  Henry  Miller,  Mr. 
Faversham,  Jas.  K.  Hackett,  E.  J.  Morgan,  Felix  Morris,  Wm.  Courtleigh,  Miss 
Mannering,  Julie  Opp,  Elizabeth  Tyree,  Annie  Russell,  Miss  Gilbert,  Isabelle 
Irving,  Hilda  Spong,  Miss  McKee  Rankin  and  Virginia  Harned. 

The  sprightliness  of  Miss  Tyree,  the  Dresden  china-like  effect  of  Miss  Irving, 
the  charms  of  Miss  Russell  and  the  buoyancy  of  Miss  Mannering  and  Miss  Opp 
are,  indeed,  pleasant  memories.   They  were  certainly  a  delightful  coterie. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  final  performance  at  the  Lyceum  previous  to  the 
demolition  of  the  building,  Miss  Annie  Russell  read  some  appropriate  lines,  of 
which  the  following  is  the  conclusion: 

The  end  has  come.    Dare  we,  who  face  you  thus, 
To  bid  good-bye  to  you,  as  you  to  us, 

Dare  we  expect  a  place,  however  small, 

With  those  you  love  to  turn  to  and  recall? 
Ah,  yes!  

Then,  when  destruction  lays  its  ruthless  hand 

Where  once  the  play  and  player  took  their  stand, 
Hope  and  not  grief  will  cause  our  hearts  to  swell, 
Since  "au  revoir"  will  lurk  behind  "farewell," 

And  from  afar  there  sounds  a  sweet  Te  Deum, 

Because  the  New  springs  from  the  Old  Lyceum ! 

The  Star,  at  the  corner  of  Thirteenth  Street  and  Broadway  (now  Rogers,  Peet 
&  Co.)  was  then  under  the  management  of  Lester.  Wallack  and  housed  such  im- 
portant foreign  companies  as  were  wont  to  visit  New  York  for  a  brief  stay. 
Notable  among  these  visitors  was  Henry  Irving  and  Ellen  Terry  on  their  first 
visit  here,  and  their  reception  was  all  that  could  be  desired.  As  Olivia  Ellen 
Terry  never  had  a  more  congenial  part,  nor  had  Irving  as  Mathias  in  "The  Bells." 
Their  entire  repertoire  was  performed  here  to  crowded  houses  and  unbounded 
enthusiasm.  Fanny  Davenport  was  here  as  a  star  in  "Fedora,"  a  play  in  which 
she  secured  a  financial  and  artistic  success  of  great  magnitude.  Lydia  Thomp- 
son essayed  here  some  burlesque  extravaganza  roles,  in  which  she  achieved  some 
success.  But  nothing  ever  approached  the  havoc  wrought  by  her  and  her  fasci- 
nating "British  Blondes"  a  decade  previous.  Nothing  had  ever  appeared  like  them 
and  the  town  went  wild  over  the  novelty.  "The  Black  Crook"  followed  this  and  the 
era  of  tights  may  be  said  then  to  have  commenced.  It  was  some  years  before 
the  managers  had  again  to  resort  to  skirts. 

The  theatre  erected  by  Edwin  Booth  on  Twenty-third  Street  and  Sixth 
Avenue,  now  McCreery's,  was  an  ambitious  undertaking,  but  did  not  prove  a 
financial  success.  It  was  the  scene,  however,  of  some  notable  Shakespearian  revi- 
vals with  Booth  as  the  star.  The  famous  combination  of  Booth,  Bangs,  Barrett, 
and  Davenport  started  en  tour  from  here;  John  McCullough  was  also  a  frequent 
actor  in  New  York  in  "Virginia."  Of  the  other  actors  whose  names  frequently  ap- 


[191] 


The  Famous  "Mulligan  Guards" 


peared  on  the  boards  at  this  time  were  E.  M.  Holland,  C.  W.  Couldock,  Osmond 
Tearle,  Frank  Mayo,  Steele  Mackaye,  Dion  Boucicault,  Maurice  Barrymore, 
Sol  Smith  Russell,  Roland  Reed,  Jo  Jefferson,  Joseph  Wheelock,  Joseph 
Howarth,  Frank  Chanfrau,  W.  J.  Florence,  Barney  Williams,  Henry  Edwards, 
Nate  Salisbury  and  many  others. 

Robson  and  Crane  are  well  remembered.  "The  Henrietta"  was  perhaps  their 
most  famous  play,  but  they  had  a  long  line  of  successes  to  their  credit  and  were 
sure  of  a  hearty  welcome  when  they  came  to  New  York.  Mr.  Crane  is  still  doing 
good  work. 

Another  theatre  that  enjoyed  a  peculiar  and  remarkable  popularity  in  New 
York  was  the  Comique,  better  known  as  Harrigan  and  Hart's.  The  plays  given 
here  were  entirely  local  in  character  and  depicted  familiar  East  Side  scenes,  at 
that  time  the  home  of  the  Irish  population.  The  Mulligan  series  were  the  most 
famous— "The  Mulligan  Guards,"  "The  Mulligan  Guards'  Pic  Nic,"  "The  Mulli- 
gan Guards'  Ball,"  etc.,  etc.  The  chief  actors  were  Ned  Harrigan,  Tony  Hart, 
Johnny  Wild  and  Annie  Yeamans.  This  was  a  quartette  that  kept  New  York 
screaming  with  laughter  for  years.  Dave  Braham  supplied  the  music  and  some  of 
his  songs  have  never  been  exceeded  in  popularity.  "The  Mulligan  Guards'  Ball" 
was  one.  Others  were  "Going  Home  with  Nelly  after  Five,"  "Maggie  Murphy's 
Home,"  "The  Market  on  Saturday  Night,"  "I  never  Drink  behind  the  Bar," 
"Duffy's  Cart,"  "Regular  Army,"  "The  Skidmore  Guards,"  "Up  at  Dudley's 
Grove,"  "Major  Gilfeather,"  "The  Skids  are  out  To-day,"  etc. 

In  a  way,  these  plays  were  more  nearly  native  American  art  than  had  ever 
yet  been  offered.  They  burlesqued  the  every-day  street  life  of  New  York  and  it 
was  artistically  done.  No  one  ever  excelled  Ned  Harrigan,  Tony  Hart  or  Johnny 
Wild  in  their  respective  fields  and  Annie  Yeamans  as  the  original  tough  girl  was 
immense.  To  the  deep  regret  of  all  theatre-goers  the  combination  disagreed  and 
the  old  firm  of  Harrigan  and  Hart  dissolved.  Harrigan  continued  alone  and 
made  some  success,  but  Tony  Hart  and  Johnny  Wild  did  not  exactly  share  the 
same  fortunate  ending.  Nothing  has  ever  appeared  to  take  the  place  of  those 
peculiar  comedians.  Perhaps  the  times  have  changed  so  that  they  would  no  longer 
be  understood,  but  in  their  day  and  generation  they  were  certainly  an  entertaining 
company. 

A.  M.  Palmer  managed  the  Madison  Square  with  a  stock  company.  Among 
his  notable  successes  were  "The  Banker's  Daughter,"  "Young  Mrs.  Winthrop," 
"Hazel  Kirke,"  "Passion's  Slave,"  "The  Danites,"  etc.  "Davy  Crockett,"  with 
Frank  Mayo,  was  always  a  popular  production,  as  were  also  "Michael  Strogoff" 
and  "The  Danicheffs,"  while  Kate  Claxton  in  "The  Two  Orphans"  did  a  lucrative 
business.  It  was  during  a  performance  of  this  play  in  Brooklyn  that  the  terrible 
fire  occurred  in  Col.  Sinn's  Park  Theatre  by  which  nearly  three  hundred  lives  were 
lost.  It  was  one  of  the  worst  disasters  of  its  kind  on  record,  and  had  a  depressing 
effect  on  theatres  in  general  for  a  long  time. 


[192] 


SIMMER  RESIDENCE    01    FERNANDO  WOOD,  MAYOR,  1855,  _  5  6,  _  5  7,  _  5  8. 

Broadway  ,>„</  77thStrc*i,irr 

COPYRIGHT,  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN. 


FERNANDO  WOOD.  MAYOli  OF  THE  CITY  AT  THAT  TIME.  GAVE  A 
LUNCHEON  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES  IN  THIS  HOUSE.  AND  HIS 
INVITATIONS  READ.  "PLEASE  PRESENT  THIS  CARD  AT  THE  GATE." 
ABOVE  WE  SHOW  THE  GATE  AND  THE  HOUSE.  WHICH  STOOD  ON 
BROADWAY  AND  77rn  STREET  TILL  LATE  IN  THE  SIXTIES. 

FROM'  THE   COLLECTION    OF  MR    OTIS    F  WOOD 


Elsie  de  Wolfe  and  Evert  J.  Wendell  as  Amateurs 


Down  on  the  East  side  a  Jewish  actress  in  emotional  roles  profoundly  stirred 
her  Yiddish  audiences — Bertha  Kalisch.  The  German  Theatre  on  Irving  Place 
also  produced  many  notable  plays  in  the  native  tongue.  Diagonally  across  the 
street  the  old  Academy  of  Music  was  offering  standard  melodramas  at  reduced 
prices,  and  just  below  it  Tony  Pastor  was  still  holding  forth  in  what  proved  to 
be  his  closing  years.  Further  down  that  avenue  was  Miner's  Burlesque  Theatre. 
Amateur  Friday  Nights  originated  here,  an  idea  which  had  considerable  merit 
until  it  became  commercialized.  The  Old  Bowery  just  below  Miner's  even  then 
had  been  a  German  theatre  for  so  many  years  that  its  old  origin  and  traditions 
were  already  a  sealed  book  to  its  patrons,  and  many  native  New  Yorkers  still  fail 
to  identify  the  Thalia  Theatre  with  the  once  famous  old  playhouse  known  all 
over  the  country  as  the  Bowery. 

A  school  of  acting,  new  at  this  time,  but  tremendously  popular,  were  the  farces 
of  Chas.  H.  Hoyt.  Mr.  Powers  made  his  first  great  hit  in  one  of  them,  "A  Bunch 
of  Keys."  There  were  quite  a  number  of  them,  "A  Texas  Steer,"  "A  Trip  to 
Chinatown,"  etc.,  etc.  Each  one  burlesqued  some  peculiar  feature  of  common  ex- 
perience in  those  days,  and  Hoyt  grew  wealthy.  Another  play  which  made  its 
appearance  about  this  time  and  has  practically  continued  ever  since  was  "The  Old 
Homestead."  It  was  originally  a  short  vaudeville  sketch  entitled  "Joshua  Whit- 
comb,"  but  was  amplified  by  James  M.  Hill,  a  business  man  who  forsook  com- 
merce for  the  stage  and  achieved  considerable  success  as  a  manager.  He  was 
quite  a  figure  in  the  theatrical  world  for  many  years.  Margaret  Mather  was 
under  his  management.  She  was  a  Brooklyn  girl  of  rare  promise.  Her  early 
demise  undoubtedly  deprived  the  stage  of  a  tragedienne  of  remarkable  talent. 
Lillian  Olcott,  another  Brooklynite,  also  essayed  high  tragedy  and  played  Theo- 
dora, Camille,  etc.  She  graduated  from  the  Brooklyn  Amaranth,  a  social 
amateur  theatrical  organization  which  had  some  ambitious  members.  Bob  Hilliard 
came  from  there,  and  another  similar  society,  also  in  Brooklyn,  produced  Miss 
Elsie  de  Wolfe  and  Mrs.  Bloodgood.  Evert  J.  Wendell  was  also  an  amateur 
in  the  same  company,  but  never  appeared  as  a  professional. 

"Pinafore"  and  "The  Mikado"  had  just  come  over  and  were  the  musical  rage 
for  several  seasons.  There  were  numerous  companies  performing  these  operettas 
as  no  copyrights  existed  in  those  days  and  they  were  freely  pirated.  The  Stan- 
dard, on  Broadway  between  Thirty-second  and  Thirty-third  Street  where  Gimbels 
is  now,  was  the  home  of  the  authorized  version  under  D'Oyly  Carte,  and  numbered 
in  its  cast  some  of  the  finest  singers  ever  heard  in  the  city.  Geraldine  Ulmar, 
Kate  Forster  and  Geraldine  St.  Maur  enacted  the  Three  Little  Maids,  Courtice 
Pounds  Nanki-Po,  F.  Billington  Pooh  Bah  and  George  Thorne  Ko-Ko.  The  "Bos- 
ton Ideals,"  a  troupe  composed  of  choir  singers  from  that  city,  also  met  with 
gratifying  success.  After  "Pinafore"  and  twThe  Mikado"  they  essayed  "Robin 
Hood"  with  equal  results.  Myron  Whitney  and  Chauncey  Olcott  were  also  in  one 
of  the  casts.  The  Gilbert  and  Sullivan  days  were  ones  long  to  be  remembered  and 
certainly  created  a  furor  at  their  introduction. 


[195] 


Rudolph  Aronson  Opens  the  Casino 


The  Girl  and  Music  show  was  also  popular  in  those  days,  and  Rudolph 
Aronson  in  the  then  New  Casino  was  distinctly  the  sensation  of  the  day  in  his  line. 
A  long  line  of  successes  followed  his  management  of  the  new  song  house,  "Er- 
minie"  alone  running  for  so  many  nights  that  the  cast  practically  quit  from 
exhaustion.  Francis  Wilson  made  his  great  hit  in  "Erminie,"  and  ever  after 
maintained  the  enviable  position  he  then  achieved.  He  is  one  of  the  few  old  mem- 
bers of  the  Casino  who  has  grown  in  his  art  as  well  as  in  experience,  and  his 
scholarly  attainments  have  earned  for  him  an  enviable  position  in  private  life. 

No  mention  of  the  Casino,  however,  is  complete  without  a  recital  of  the  splen- 
did work  done  for  it  in  those  days  by  the  perennially  youthful  and  always  delight- 
ful Lillian  Russell.  Miss  Russell's  beauty  in  those  days  is  only  rivalled  by  her 
beauty  to-day,  only  now  there  is  a  trifle  more  of  it.  She  was  certainly  the  pride 
of  the  "Johnnies"  and  has  never  lost  her  place  in  the  affections  of  the  music  loving 
public.  Her  late  appearance  in  connection  with  Health  and  Beauty  talks  in  com- 
pany with  moving  pictures  only  serves  to  emphasize  the  versatility  of  this  charm- 
ing woman. 

Other  great  attractions  at  the  Casino  were  De  Wolf  Hopper,  Digby  Bell,  Jef- 
ferson de  Angelis,  James  T.  Powers,  Frank  Daniels,  Pauline  Hall,  Marion 
Manola,  Sylvia  Gerrish,  Amelia  Somerville,  Agnes  Folsom,  Rose  Beaudert  and 
Emma  Hawley.  There  were,  of  course,  many  other  shows  of  a  musical  nature. 
Thatcher,  Primrose  and  West  presented  a  delightful  entertainment  of  the  old 
minstrel  order.  The  three  principals  contributed  much  of  the  program  and  were 
a  whole  show  in  themselves.  Lew  Dockstader  also  had  a  minstrel  company  who 
enjoyed  tremendous  vogue  for  a  long  time.  They  were  a  revival  of  Bryant  and 
Christy's  famous  San  Francisco  Minstrels  that  held  forth  twenty-five  years  before 
in  the  old  Winter  Garden,  now  the  Broadway  Central  Hotel.  Jack  Haverly  also 
scored  heavily  in  the  same  line.  In  fact,  come  to  think  of  it,  the  revival  was  of 
greater  significance  than  was  then  apparent.  The  black-face  school  of  artists,  how- 
ever, finally  faded  into  obscurity  along  with  many  other  delectable  forms  of  enter- 
tainment for  no  particular  reason  whatever.   The  public  just  wanted  a  change. 

Koster  and  Bial's,  on  Thirty-fourth  Street,  where  Macy's  now  is,  Theiss's  on 
Fourteenth  Street,  and  other  music  halls  were  also  popular.  Henry  E.  Dixey,  as 
Adonis,  in  that  musical  extravaganza,  ran  for  six  hundred  nights  at  the  Bijou,  a 
huge  record  in  those  days,  and  "Evangeline"  with  George  Fortescue  as  the  Merry 
Little  Mountain  Maid — he  weighed  about  400  lbs.  and  had  a  voice  like  a  bull — did 
almost  as  well.  These  were  produced  by  Edward  E.  Rice,  who  had  a  highly  suc- 
cessful career  for  a  time.  He  was  easily  the  father,  as  Lydia  Thompson  was  the 
mother,  of  what  were  popularly  known  as  "leg  shows." 

Most  of  the  players  I  have  recalled  have  long  since  passed  away,  but  a  number 
remain,  a  few  still  in  active  service,  but  the  majority  in  dignified  retirement.  It 
is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  an  equal  number  of  deserving  performers  have  not  been 
mentioned.  Memory  plays  tricks,  and  I  am  not  seeking  so  much  for  details  as  the 
general  impression  created  at  the  time;  for  the  theatrical  world  has  grown  since 
those  days  and  conditions  are  also  vastly  changed. 


[196] 


COPYRIGHT    1913.    H    C  BROWN 

£>t.  3laljn*0  (!Ihappl-ui-tl|p-JFtplftfl 


ELSEWHERE  WE  HAVE  DESCRIBED  THE  MANY  CHARMS  OF  THE 
REGION  SURROUNDING  THE  THIRD  CHAPEL  BUILT  BY  TRINITY. 
WITH  ITS  LOFTY  ELMS  AND  SECLUDED  PARK,  IT  WAS  FOR  MANY 
YEARS  THE  CENTRE  OF  ALL  THAT  WAS  MOST  DESIRABLE  IN  NEW 
YORK  SOCIETY.  THE  PARK  WAS  FINALLY  SOLD  TO  THE  NEW  YORK 
CENTRAL  FOR  ITS  PRESENT  USE  AS  A  FREIGHT  DEPOT.  AND  THE 
GLORY  OF  ST.  JOHN'S  DEPARTED  OUR  PRINT  IS  TAKEN  FROM  THE 
"MIRROR."  A  LEADING  SOCIETY  JOURNAL  IN  ITS  DAY.  EDITED  BY 
NATHANIEL  P.  WILLIS  AND  OTHER  CELEBRITIES.  TO  DAY  IT  IS 
KNOWN  AS     TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  '' 

FnOW  THF  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  R.  E.  OOWLING. 


THE  OLD  CHURCHES  OF  NEW  YORK 


The  Collegiate  Church  and  Its  First  Minister — The  Wall  Street  Presbyterian — 
The  Middle  Dutch — The  Brick  Meeting  House — The  North  Dutch — The 
Friends — The  Old  John  Street  Methodist  Church,  Etc.,  Etc. 

The  old-time  churches  in  our  city  have  a  special  place  in  the  affections  of  many 
of  our  people.  Remembrances  of  other  days  and  other  scenes  crowd  the  memory  at 
the  recollection.  Most  of  the  buildings  of  which  we  speak  have  long  since  been 
destroyed  and  other  locations  selected.  But  it  is  pleasant  to  recall  the  homes  of 
worship  sacred  to  the  days  that  are  no  more. 

Although  they  were  chiefly  traders  and  planters,  the  founders  of  New  York, 
in  the  very  gray  of  the  morning  of  their  enterprise,  took  care  to  bring  along  with 
them  the  religion,  as  well  as  the  maxims  and  virtues  of  their  fatherland.  With 
Director  Minuit  came  officers  of  the  Established  Church  of  the  Netherlands — not 
indeed  clergymen,  but  two  "Krank-besoeckers"  or  consolers  of  the  sick — whose 
particular  ecclesiastical  duty  it  was  in  the  absence  of  an  ordained  minister  to  read 
to  the  people  on  Sundays  "some  texts  out  of  the  Scriptures,  together  with  the 
creeds."  These  early  officers  of  the  Church — we  may  call  them  the  first  officers 
of  the  Reformed  Protestant  Dutch  Church  in  North  America  in  the  year  1626 — 
were  Sebastian  Jansen  Krol  (or  Crol)  and  Jan  Huyck.  The  roll  of  Dutch  mis- 
sionary clergymen  in  1628  begins  with  the  name  of  Jonas  Michaelius,  who  first 
preached  in  the  loft  of  a  horse  mill  in  the  Fort. 

When  the  population  began  to  increase  and  a  second  church  became  neces- 
sary, and  one  minister  could  no  longer  attend  to  the  duties  required  of  him  by  a 
double  service,  the  Consistory  called  a  second  minister,  who,  being  duly  installed, 
became  the  colleague  of  the  first.  From  this  comes  the  name  by  which  the  church 
is  affectionately  known — the  Collegiate  Church,  or  "Church  in  the  Fort" — although 
its  formal  title  is  the 

REFORMED  PROTESTANT  DUTCH  CHURCH  OF  THE  CITY  OF  NEW  YORK 

under  which  name  it  was  regularly  incorporated  in  1696  by  a  royal  charter  granted 
by  William  III  of  England.   It  is  therefore  the  oldest  church  in  New  York  City. 

When  the  English  conquered  New  Amsterdam  they  desired  to  have  worship 
in  their  own  tongue,  and  accordingly,  the  chaplain  of  the  English  forces  officiated. 
But  as  he  had  no  proper  place  in  which  to  celebrate  divine  service  an  arrange- 
ment was  made  by  which  he  could  use  "the  Church  in  the  Fort."  After  the  Dutch 
had  ended  their  own  morning  worship  the  Church  of  England  service  was  read 
to  the  Governor  and  the  garrison.  This  custom  continued  for  more  than  thirty 
years. 


[199] 


All  Were  Located  Downtown 


An  account  of  the  first  services  in  the  new  church  written  by  Dominie 
Michaelius  himself  to  his  friend  Dominie  Smoutious  of  Amsterdam  whom  he  ad- 
dresses as  "Honourable  Sir,  Well  Beloved  Brother  in  Christ,  Kind  Friend!"  is  of 
great  interest. 

"Our  coming  here  was  agreeable  to  all,  and  I  hope,  by  the  grace  of  the  Lord,  that 
my  services  will  not  be  unfruitful.  The  people  for  the  most  part  are  all  free,  somewhat  rough 
and  loose,  but  I  find  in  most  all  of  them  both  love  and  respect  toward  me;  two  things  with 
which  hitherto  the  Lord  has  everywhere  graciously  blessed  my  labors  and  which  will  produce 
us  fruit  in  our  special  calling,  as  your  Right  Reverend  self  well  knows  and  finds. 

We  have  first  established  the  form  of  a  church,  as  Rrother  Bastiaen  Crol  very  seldom  comes 
down  from  Fort  Orange,  because  the  directorship  of  that  fort  and  the  trade  there  is  com- 
mitted to  him. 

We  have  had  at  the  first  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper  fully  fifty  communicants — 
not  without  great  joy  and  comfort  for  so  many — Walloons  and  Dutch;  of  whom  a  portion 
made  their  first  confession  of  the  faith  before  us,  and  others  exhibited  their  church 
certificates.  Others  had  forgotten  to  bring  their  certificates  with  them,  not  thinking  that 
a  Church  would  be  formed  and  established  here,  and  some,  who  brought  them,  had  lost  them 
unfortunately  in  a  general  conflagration,  but  they  were  admitted  upon  the  satisfactory 
testimony  of  others  to  whom  they  were  known,  and  also  upon  their  daily  good  deportment, 
since  we  cannot  observe  strictly  all  the  usual  formalities  in  making  a  beginning  under  such 
circumstances." 

The  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  Wall  Street  was  founded  in  1719 — enlarged  in  1798 — 
rebuilt  in  1809 — destroyed  by  fire  in  1835,  again  rebuilt  and  taken  down  in  1844.  For 
more  than  a  hundred  years  this  ground  had  been  sacred  for  religious  purposes  and  was  for 
a  long  time  the  centre  of  population.  The  church  was  eventually  taken  down  and  removed  in 
parts  and  again  erected  in  Jersey  City.  With  the  money  for  which  the  church  was  sold,  a  new 
church  was  built  on  Fifth  Avenue. 

French  Church  Du  St  Esprit — Episcopal.  In  Pine,  near  Nassau  Street,  was  erected 
by  the  Huguenots  from  France  in  1704.  During  the  Revolutionary  War  the  interior  was 
entirely  destroyed.  In  1794  it  underwent  a  thorough  repair,  and  in  1803  the  clergyman  and 
congregation  joined  the  Episcopal  Church.  We  believe  this  is  the  only  church  in  the  city 
where  the  religious  services  have  always  been  in  the  French  language.  In  1832  the  church  was 
taken  down  and  sold,  and  a  new  and  beautiful  house  at  the  corner  of  Franklin  and  Church 
Streets  erected  with  the  funds. 

The  Brick  Meeting  (Presbyterian),  corner  of  Nassau  and  Beekman  Streets,  was  built  in 
1767.  The  Wall  Street  church,  except  this,  is  the  oldest  church  of  this  denomination  in  the 
city,  and  probably  had  the  most  numerous  congregation.  It  was  burned  in  1853  and  was 
rebuilt  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and  Thirty-seventh  Street. 

St.  Paul's  Chapel  (Episcopal),  in  Broadway,  was  erected  in  1767,  and  is  still  considered 
one  of  the  finest  buildings  in  the  city.  This  belongs  to  the  Trinity  Corporation.  Its  walls  are 
surrounded  with  monuments,  and  beneath  its  chancel  rest  the  remains  of  General  Montgomery, 
who  fell,  leading  the  American  army  in  their  gallant  attack  on  Quebec. 


[  200  ] 


N?  Ill  BROADWAY. 

Richard  Croker.  Peter  F.Meyer. 


PETER  F.WEYcR 
REMOVE 

MAY  1st  190  J 

IMandMADWAK 


PETER  F.MEYER 
OVE 


PETEft  F.MEYER 
REMOVE 

MAY  1st  1903 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H.  C.  BROWN. 


ICaBt  Saga  of  (Erokrr'H  SUal  Eatat*  ©ffire 
111  Srnaiiioag 


SEVERAL  WELL-KNOWN  REAL  ESTATE  MEN  ARE  IN  THE  ABOVE 
PICTURE.  THEY  ARE:  JOSEPH  P.  DAY.  BRYAN  L  KENNELLY.  PETER 
F  MEYER  ADRIAN  H  MULLER.  JAMES  L  WELLS.  JOHN  L.  PARISH 
ROBERT  E  SIMON.  D.  PHOENIX  I N  G  RAH  AM  .  PH  I  LI  P  A.  SM  YT  H .  S  DE 
WALLTEARSS.  JOHN  N.  GOLDING.  THIS  WAS  TAKEN  THE  DAY  BE- 
FORE THE  OLD  BUILDING  WAS  DEMOLISHED  TO  MAKE  ROOM  FOR 
THE  SPLENDID  TRINITY  BUILDING  NOW  ON  ITS  SITE 

FROM    THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  WM.  F  HAVEMETER. 


\ 


The  Old  North  Dutch  Church  in  William  Street 


The  Friends'  (or  Quaker)  Meeting  House,  in  Pearl,  near  Frankfort  Street.  A  brick 
building  was  erected  in  1775  and  taken  down,  and  the  land  sold  about  1824. 

The  Lutheran  Church,  corner  of  William  and  Frankfort  Streets.  A  stone  building 
erected  in  1767. 

The  Quakers'  or  Friends'  Meeting  House  in  Green  Street,  between  Maiden  Lane  and 
Liberty  Streets,  erected  in  1706.  It  was  rebuilt  and  enlarged  on  Liberty,  in  1802.  About 
1820,  the  house  and  grounds  were  sold  to  Grant  Thorburn,  who  for  years  occupied  the 
premises  as  a  seed  store. 

The  Scotch  Presbyterian  Church  in  Cedar  near  Nassau  Street  was  built  in  1768.  This 
was  the  congregation  over  whom  the  celebrated  Dr.  John  M.  Mason  presided  before  the  removal 
to  Murray  Street. 

The  Methodist  Church  in  John  Street  was  built  in  1767  and  rebuilt  in  1817.  This 
church  is  still  standing,  and  is  memorable  as  the  first  Methodist  church  built  in  America. 
[See  page  101.] 

The  First  Baptist  Church — a  stone  building  in  Gold,  near  John  Street,  was  built  in 
1769,  rebuilt  in  1802,  and  taken  down  in  1843. 

The  North  Dutch  Church,  in  William,  corner  of  Fulton  Street,  was  built  in  1769. 

The  Middle  Dutch  or  Reformed  Church  fronting  on  Cedar,  Liberty  and  Nassau  Streets, 
built  in  1729,  turned  into  a  Riding  School  during  the  Revolution,  often  repaired  and  finally 
turned  into  the  Post  Office. 

The  Reformed  Dutch  Church  at  Harlem — built  of  wood,  30x57  feet.  It  is  not  ascer- 
tained at  what  date  it  was  founded,  but  it  is  generally  believed  to  have  been  soon  after  the  set- 
tlement of  the  city  by  the  Dutch.    It  was  taken  down  in  1825  and  rebuilt  of  brick. 

The  South  Dutch  Church  in  Garden  Street,  near  Exchange  Street,  between  William  and 
Broad  Streets,  north  side,  was  erected  in  1693,  rebuilt  in  1807,  and  destroyed  by  fire  in  1835. 
There  was  a  large  burying  ground  attached. 

The  Jews'  Synagogue  in  Mill,  now  South  William  Street,  was  a  stone  building,  erected 
in  1730.  For  some  years  prior  to  its  being  erected  the  Hebrew  congregation  worshipped  in 
a  frame  building  opposite.  In  1818  the  Synagogue  was  rebuilt,  and  in  the  '30s  the  ground 
was  sold  and  a  new  building  erected  in  Crosby  Street,  where  the  congregation  now  worship. 

The  Moravian  Church  in  Fair,  now  Fulton  Street,  near  William  Street,  was  erected  in 
1751,  and  a  few  years  since  it  was  rebuilt.  This  was  the  only  congregation  of  that  denomina- 
tion in  the  city. 

St.  George's  Chapel  (Episcopal)  in  Beekman,  corner  of  Cliff  Street,  a  stone  building, 
was  erected  in  1759,  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1814,  and  rebuilt  in  1817.    This  has  always 


[  203  ] 


A  British  Soldier  in  St.  Paul's 


been  one  of  the  largest  parishes  in  the  city.  For  more  than  twenty  years  the  eminently  pious 
and  zealous  Dr.  James  Milnor  was  the  Rector. 

After  the  Revolution  a  much  larger  number  of  churches  were  erected.  Here  is  a  partial 
list  of  the  downtown  churches  in  the  early  '40s:  Dr.  Chapin's  Universalist  Church,  cor- 
ner of  Murray  and  Church  Streets;  Dr.  Mason's  church  in  Murray  Street  near  Greenwich 
Street,  the  building  taken  down  and  re-erected  in  Astor  Place;  the  Presbyterian  Church  at 
Duane  and  Church  Streets ;  old  Duane  Methodist  Church  near  Greenwich  Street ;  the  colored 
Methodist  Church,  corner  of  Leonard  and  Church  Streets ;  the  French  Episcopal  Church, 
corner  of  Franklin  and  Church  Streets ;  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  on  the  same  block  in 
Franklin  Street;  the  Episcopal  Church,  in  Anthony  Street  near  Broadway;  the  Broadway 
Tabernacle,  between  Leonard  and  Anthony  Streets;  Vestry  Street  Methodist  Church;  the 
Laight  Street  Baptist  Church;  the  Presbyterian  Church  at  Canal  and  Greene  Streets;  the 
Methodist  Church  in  Greene  Street  near  Broome;  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  corner  of 
Broome  and  Greene  Streets ;  the  Presbyterian  Church,  corner  of  Grand  and  Mercer  Streets ; 
and  also  one  on  corner  of  Grand  and  Crosby  Streets.  Further  uptown  St.  Peter's  Catholic 
Church  and  Spring  Street  Presbyterian  Church  are  the  only  two  remaining  on  their  original 
sites,  and  still  nourishing. 

St.  Peter's  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  at  346  West  20th  Street,  a  relic  of  the  days  when 
Chelsea  Village  was  a  region  of  fashionable  residences,  celebrated  on  Sunday,  November  19, 
1912,  the  80th  anniversary  of  its  founding.  The  birthplace  of  St.  Peter's  Church  was  the 
chapel  of  the  General  Theological  Seminary  in  which  the  founders,  the  Rev.  Bird  Wilson,  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Hulbert  Turner,  and  Dr.  Clement  Clarke  Moore,  were  professors.  The  seminary 
"long  room"  had  become  too  small  for  the  worshippers,  who  were  students  in  the  seminary  and 
inhabitants  of  the  village  of  Chelsea,  which  Major  Thomas  Clarke  had  bought  from  Teunis 
Somerindyk  for  a  farm  in  1750.  And  so  on  May  9,  1831,  St.  Peter's  Church  was  organized 
with  the  present  rectory  as  its  chapel. 

In  St.  Paul's  Chapel,  Broadway  and  Vesey  Street,  the  grave  of  Lieut.  Thomas  Swords, 
a  British  soldier,  above  which  the  Society  of  Colonial  Wars  has  placed  its  marker,  lies  in  the 
southeast  corner  just  a  few  feet  from  Broadway. 

Lieut.  Swords  was  born  in  Ireland  in  1740.  While  an  ensign  in  the  British 
Army  he  was  severely  wounded  in  the  attack  on  Fort  Ticonderoga  in  the  Aber- 
crombie  expedition  in  1758.  In  that  action  he  was  promoted  to  Lieutenant  for 
bravery.  Subsequently  he  was  stationed  at  Fort  George.  In  1766  he  resigned  from 
the  British  Army.  He  never  took  up  arms  against  the  American  forces  and  he 
would  not  fight  against  his  King.  He  is  the  only  British  soldier  buried  in  St. 
Paul's. 


[  204  ] 


THE  GREAT  FiRE  of  the  CITY  or  NEW -YORK.  16  DECEMBER  1835 


COPY R16HT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN. 


<Hl?r  (Srrai  If  ire  af  IB  35 


THE  GENTLLEMAN  RUNNING  UP  THE  STEPS  IS  MR.  PATTERSON.  OF 
PATTERSON  S  GUSTIN.  WHO  WISHED.  IF  POSSIBLE.  TO  SAVE  THE 
STATUE  OF  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  WHICH  WAS  DESTROYED  A  FEW 
MINUTES  AFTERWARDS 

MR  CHAS  KING  (PRES  COLUMBIA)  IS  THE  GENTLEMAN  WHO 
CROSSED  THE  EAST  RIVER  THAT  AWFUL  NIGHT  IN  AN  OPEN  BOAT 
TO  THE  NAVY  YARD  TO  PROCURE  GUNPOWDER.  IN  WHICH  HE  WAS 
SUCCESSFUL 

FROM  THE   COLLECTION   OF  MR.  ROBERT  GOELET. 


A  VERY  RARE  AND  INTERESTING  PICTURE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIRE  OF 
1835.  IN  WHICH  THE  MAIN  BUSINESS  PORTION  OF  THE  CITY  EAST 
OF  BROADWAY  AND  SOUTH  OF  WALL  STREET  WAS  PRACTICALLY 
DESTROYED  WITH  THE  LOSS  OF  OVER  THIRTY  MILLIONS  OF  DOLLARS 
IN  LESS  THAN  A  YEAR.  HOWEVER.  THE  BURNT  DISTRICT  WAS  EN- 
TIRELY REBUILT  THE  FIGURES  IN  THE  FOREGROUND  WERE  OF 
THEN  EMINENT  MERCHANTS  OF  THE  DAY  AND  WERE  GOOD  LIKE- 
NESSES. THEY  WERE  AMONG  THE  VOLUNTEER  FIREMEN  WHO 
HELPED  TO  SAVE  THE  CITY.    THE  NAMES  ARE  AS  FOLLOWS: 

1—  CHESTER  HUNTINGDON  POLICE  OFFICER 

2—  JOHN  JACOB  SCHOONMAKER     -       -    KEEPER  OF  THE  BATTERY 

3  — NATHANIEL  FINCH       -       -  MEMBER  OF  FIRE  CO.  No.  9 

4  — MATTHEW  BIRD  ....  MEMBER  OF  FIRE  CO  No  13 
5— JAMES  S.  LEGGETT       -        ASST   FOREMAN  OF  FIRE  CO   No  13 

6  — ZOPHAR  MILLS      -      FOREMAN  OF  ENGINE  OF  FIRE  CO    No  13 

7  — WM.  H.  BOGARDUS        -  COUNSELLOR  AT  LAW 

8—  COL.  JAMES  WATSON  WEBB    -    EDITOR  OF  COURIER  &  ENQUIRER 

9—  A.  M.  C.  SMITH  POLICE  OFFICER 

10— JAMES  GULICK  CHIEF  ENGINEER 

1  I  — JOHN  HILLYER  SH  ER I FF  OF  C ITY  a  COU  NTY  OF  N  Y 

12  — OLIVER  M    LOWNDES  POLIC  E  J  U  STI CE 

13  — CHAS   KING  EDITOR  OF  TH  E  A  M  E  Rl  C  A  N 

14  — HON   C   W   LAWRENCE         ...       -     M  AYOR  OF  THE  CITY 

15—  JAMES  M    LOWNDES  UNDER  SHERIFF 

16—  JOSEPH  HOPSON   POLIC E  J  U STI C E 

17  — EDWARD  WINDUST  OF  ' SHAKESPEAR  INN."  PARK  ROW 

18—  THOMAS  DOWNING       -       -       OF  Nos.  3.  5  &  7  BROAD  STREET 

19—  JACOB  HAYS  HIGH  CONSTABLE 

20—  H   W.  MERRITT   POLICE  OFFICER 

21—  PETER  MclNTYRE      -    PROP.  M ONTGOM  E R Y  H OTEL.  BARC LAY  ST. 


» 


"WELL-REMEMBERED  PLAYS  OF  YESTERDAY" 


NOTES  FROM  AN  OLD  DIARY 

In  1876  the  names  of  Henry  E.  Abbey  and  J.  H.  Haverly  show  that  the 
era  of  speculative  management  has  begun.  The  name  of  Frohman  does  not 
occur  yet,  but  Daniel,  of  that  family,  is  lurking  behind  the  doors  of  the  Madison 
Square  Theatre.  Comic  opera  has  come,  for  "Olivette"  and  "Billee  Taylor"  are  in 
town,  and  there  is  musical  comedy  at  Daly's  Theatre  in  the  shape  of  "Cinder- 
ella at  School."  The  name  of  Catherine  Lewis  as  Olivette  recalls  one  of  the  most 
popular  actresses  of  her  day,  and  one  identified  with  some  of  Mr.  Daly's  early 
musical  successes. 

At  the  Academy  of  Music  Marie  Rose,  Annie  Louise  Cary,  Campanini, 
Etelka  Gerster,  Del  Puente  and  Ravelli  are  attracting  enormous  audiences,  and 
Sarah  Bernhardt  is  playing  one  of  the  first  of  her  long  series  of  "farewell  en- 
gagements." 

Farce  comedy  is  represented  by  Gill's  Goblins  in  "Fun  on  the  Rhine,"  with 
"Fun  on  the  Bristol"  to  follow,  and  Tony  Pastor,  now  at  his  last  stand  in  Four- 
teenth Street,  announces  the  Irwin  Sisters,  May  and  Flo,  Dan  Collier,  Laster 
and  Allen,  and  Frank  McNish. 

Harrigan  and  Hart  are  giving  the  "Silver  Wedding"  with  a  company  recruited 
largely  from  the  variety  stage,  and  including  Johnny  Wild  and  Billy  Gray, 
Annie  Yeamans,  Harry  Fisher,  Mike  Bradley,  Dick  Quilter,  Johnny  Queen,  and 
Annie  Mack — a  company  and  an  entertainment  that  still  live  pleasantly  in  many 
memories. 

In  1881:  At  Wallack's,  Henry  J.  Montague,  perhaps  the  most  famous 
"matinee  idol"  of  modern  times,  is  the  star,  supported  by  J.  W.  Shannon,  John 
Gilbert,  that  most  popular  of  comedians,  Henry  Beckett;  and  the  still  living  Ned 
Holland  and  Charles  A.  Stevenson.  Miss  Ada  Dyas  is  also  in  the  cast.  At  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Theatre  the  attraction  is  "Pique,"  one  of  the  most  famous  of  Au- 
gustin  Daly's  plays,  with  Fanny  Davenport  in  the  chief  part,  and  a  cast  that  in- 
cludes James  Lewis,  Wm.  Davidge,  Chas.  Fisher,  Maurice  Barrymore,  John 
Drew,  Mrs.  Gilbert  and  John  Brougham.  There  are  some  of  us  who  would 
give  a  good  deal  to  see  such  a  company  as  that  again ! 

George  Rignold  is  giving  "Henry  V"  at  the  theatre  at  the  corner  of  Sixth 
Avenue  and  Twenty-third  Street,  in  which  Edwin  Booth  sacrificed  his  fortune 
to  a  high  and  noble  ambition.  At  the  Union  Square  Theatre,  A.  M.  Palmer  is 
presenting  "Ferreol"  with  a  company  that  includes  that  prince  of  leading  men, 
Charley  Thorne,  J.  M.  Stoddart,  John  Parselle,  Stuart  Robson,  Kate  Claxton 


[207] 


Christy's  Famous  Minstrels 


and  Maude  Harrison.  In  this  cast  is  also  Claude  Burroughs,  destined  to  lose  his 
life  in  the  Brooklyn  Theatre  fire  two  weeks  later. 

At  the  Eagle  Theatre,  later  the  Standard  and  the  Manhattan,  G.  K.  Fortescue 
is  appearing  in  a  burlesque  written  by  Kenward  Philp,  afterward  famous  as  the 
supposed  author  of  the  Morey  letter,  and  in  the  same  company  are  John  Wild, 
the  first  of  a  long  line  of  "dandy  New  York  coons,"  and  Jennie  Hughes,  once 
famous  in  the  "French  Spy."  Tony  Pastor  has  moved  from  the  Bowery  to  Broad- 
way, and  in  his  company  are  Quilter  and  Goodrich,  and  Billy  Gray,  afterward 
drafted  into  the  Harrigan  and  Hart  company,  and  J.  W.  McAndrews,  the  "water- 
melon man." 

In  1891 :  The  comic  opera  of  "Poor  Jonathan"  is  being  performed  at  the 
Casino  by  Lillian  Russell,  Fanny  Rice,  Jefferson  de  Angelis,  Eva  Davenport, 
Edwin  Stevens  and  Edgar  Smith,  the  latter  destined  to  become  famous  in  later 
years  as  the  author  of  the  great  Weber  and  Fields  successes  and  other  light  enter- 
tainments. E.  S.  Willard,  Rosina  Vokes,  and  the  Kendalls  are  in  town,  and  Rose 
Coghlan  is  playing  in  "Peg  Woflington."  Daniel  Frohman  has  come  into  the  open 
as  the  manager  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  and  Ed  Harrigan  has  put  on  the  last  of 
his  great  successes,  "Reilly  and  the  Four  Hundred,"  with  Ada  Lewis  as  the  "tough 
girl."  Gus  Williams  and  John  T.  Kelly  are  featured  at  the  Standard  Theatre. 
Nat  Goodwin  is  playing  in  "The  Nominee,"  and  Denman  Thompson  is  present- 
ing "The  Old  Homestead."  "Alabama,"  which  first  gave  real  value  to  the  name  of 
Augustus  Thomas,  is  also  on  the  boards,  as  are  "Shenandoah"  and  "The  Power  of 
the  Press." 


BEGINNINGS  OF  MINSTRELSY 

The  first  public  minstrel  performances  were  those  of  the  "Virginia  Min- 
strels," in  1843,  this  form  of  amusement  having  originated  with  "Dan"  Emmett 
as  early  as  1842.  In  1843,  also,  were  organized  Buckley's  "New  Orleans  Sere- 
nades" and  many  travelling  troupes  were  on  the  road  by  1845  or  1846. 

This  entertainment  was  due  chiefly  to  E.  P.  Christy,  whose  company  easily 
stood  at  the  head  of  all  in  existence  at  that  time.  "Christy's  Minstrels"  appeared 
early  in  1846  at  "Mechanics'  Hall,"  No.  472  Broadway,  becoming  famous 
throughout  the  country  during  his  nine  years  at  this  location.  His  "star"  was 
George  Christy  (Harrington),  who  had  for  a  time  a  company  of  his  own  at  444 
Broadway,  which  became  another  noted  seat  of  minstrelsy.  After  E.  P.  Christy's 
retirement,  the  two  companies  were  under  the  management  of  George  Christy,  with 
George  and  "Billy"  Birch  as  the  "bones"  of  the  two  troupes. 


[  208  ] 


llnbrranwnb  Satlmay  in  Srnaimiag.  IB  TO 


WE  WHO  ARE  INCLINED  TO  THINK  THAT  OUR  PRESENT  SUBWAYS 
WERE  THE  ONLY  IDEAS  EVER  CONSIDERED  ON  THAT  SUBJECT  WILL 
BE  SURPRISED  TO  SEE  THE  ABOVE  RATHER  UP-TO-DATE  PLANS 
PRESENTED  IN  1870  THE  MOTIVE  POWER  WAS  INTENDED  TO  BE 
A  DRUM  CABLE  SIMILAR  TO  WHAT  WAS  FINALLY  ADOPTED  ON 
GREENWICH  STREET  AND  PROVED  A  FAILURE 

A  COMPLETE  SECTION  OF  ANOTHER  TUNNEL  STILL  EXISTS  ON 
BROADWAY  BETWEEN  CHAMBERS  AND  WARREN  STREETS.  IT  HAD 
COMPRESSED  AIR  FOR  A  MOTIVE  POWER.  BUT  NOT  UNTIL  ELECTRIC 
POWER  WAS  INTRODUCED  COULD  THE  OBJECTIONS  TO  STEAM  AND 
SMOKE  BE  OVERCOME  THE  GENIUS  OF  MR.  WILLIAM  BARCLAY 
PARSONS  SOLVED  MANY  OF  THE  PROBLEMS  PRESENTED  IN  BUILD- 
ING THE  FIRST  UNDERGROUND  ELECTRIC  ROAD  FOR  OUR  CITY.  AND 
IT  IS  TO-DAY  THE  MODEL  FOR  ALL  FUTURE  DEVELOPMENT  THIS 
VIEW  IS  OPPOSITE  OLD  FORT  SHERMAN."  THE  BANK  OF  THE 
REPUBLIC.  BROADWAY  AND  WALL  STREET. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR.  HENRT  MORGENTHAU. 


RANDOM  NOTES  OF  OLD-TIME  PERFORMANCES 


What  the  Audience  Saw — Curious  Items  of  Bygone  Customs 

In  all  accounts  of  New  York's  old-time  amusement  places,  Barnum's  stands 
out  pre-eminent.  It  stood  for  many  years  on  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Ann 
Street,  but  was  burned  down  in  the  late  '60s.  Even  in  death  it  showed  virility, 
as  this  was  for  years  the  most  talked  of  fire  in  New  York  and  has  actually  at- 
tained the  position  of  a  classic  in  conflagrations.  The  following  gives  a  slight 
glimpse  of  its  program: 

I  visited  Barnum's  when  a  very  small  boy  and  remember  Nellie,  the  seal 
that  turned  the  crank  of  a  small  barrel  organ  with  her  flipper.  She  was  very 
affectionate  and  loved  petting. 

A  glassblower  performed  the  most  wonderful  feats  and  would  blow  any- 
thing you  asked  for.  I  saw  the  wonderful  "Happy  Family,"  a  curious  combi- 
nation of  apparently  natural  enemies  dwelling  together  in  blissful  amity. 

There  was  an  exhibition  in  the  theatre  part  which  consisted  in  taking  apart 
an  enormous  box  and  out  of  the  pieces  completely  furnishing  a  room.  (My  good 
parents  demurred  about  going  into  a  "theatre"  but  it  was  explained  that  it  was 
not  to  be  a  "play"  but  an  "exhibition.") 

Above  all,  I  remember  little  "General  Grant."  He  was  dressed  in  uniform 
and  he  showed  me  "all  over  the  place."  Whenever  stairs  were  to  be  negotiated, 
up  or  down,  I  carried  General  Grant  on  my  back.  I  thought  he  was  too  little 
and  his  legs  too  short  for  that  sort  of  work,  and  I  was  a  "big  boy."  No  happier 
or  prouder  boy  ever  visited  Barnum's  than  I  was  on  that  day.  The  jabbering 
"What  Is  It?"  at  the  second  story  in  its  outdoor  openwork  balcony  cage  ges- 
ticulated, jumped  about  and  uttered  a  gibberish  beyond  power  of  human  under- 
standing. 

It  was  at  this  place  that  Barnum  introduced  Human  Freaks, — Giants, 
Dwarfs,  Fat  Women,  Skeletons,  Bearded  Ladies,  etc.  General  Tom  Thumb 
and  his  wife,  Commodore  Nutt  and  wife,  and  General  Grant  were  huge  favorites 
for  many  years.  The  Happy  Family,  above  referred  to,  was  one  in  which  all  the 
laws  of  nature  were  apparently  negatived,  as  doves,  rats,  mice,  etc.,  were  enclosed 
in  the  same  cage  with  ferocious  animals.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  these  small  animals 
were  devoured  in  the  night  by  the  larger  ones  and  a  fresh  supply  provided  in  the 
morning. 

In  order  to  overcome  a  still  formidable  prejudice  that  lingered  against  the 
theatre,  Barnum  called  that  part  of  his  show  a  "Lecture  Room."  He  produced 
all  of  Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth's  stories,    "The    Hidden    Hand,"  "The 


[211] 


Burning  of  the  Museum 


Doom  of  De  Avelleon,"  "The  Maiden's  Vow,"  etc.,  each  one  having  a  thrill  a 
minute.  Robert  Bonner,  as  clever  an  advertiser  in  his  own  way  as  Barnum,  was 
then  running  the  same  stories  in  the  "Ledger."  Barnum  also  produced  a  spec- 
tacular Biblical  play  called  "Joseph  and  His  Brethren." 

One  of  his  greatest  sensations  was  the  curious  freak  already  spoken  of  and 
called  by  him  a  "What  Is  it?"  The  lecture  room  was  crowded  every  day  when 
Barnum  introduced  this  frightful  apparition.  When  the  lecture  was  over  the 
"What  Is  It?"  was  returned  to  his  cage  over  the  entrance,  where  ever  and  anon  he 
would  set  up  a  chatter  of  meaningless  cries  and  clank  his  chains  to  draw  the 
crowd.  He  was  evidently  the  original  Wild  Man  of  Borneo,  arid  it  was  said 
he  was  a  good  old  husky  Irishman  who  liked  easy  money. 

Blind  Tom,  a  marvellous  musician,  was  also  one  of  Barnum's  discoveries. 
He  made  a  tremendous  fortune  out  of  him.  He  could  play  anything  he  ever 
heard  immediately  after  hearing  it  once  and  naturally  without  notes,  owing  to 
his  affliction.    The  Siamese  Twins  were  another  sensation. 

When  the  Museum  was  burnt  up,  a  dead  whale,  part  of  the  show,  lay  in  the 
streets  for  several  days,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  those  in  the  neighborhood; 
a  wax  figure  of  Queen  Victoria  plunged  out  of  the  window  feet  first  into  the  crowd 
below,  and  a  statue  of  Saint  Paul  was  carried  out  of  the  flames  covered  with  a 
wet  sheet. 

Barnum  afterward  sold  the  site  to  Bennett  for  the  Herald,  but  the  latter 
repented  of  his  bargain  and  a  suit  was  commenced  to  compel  him  to  live  up  to 
his  contract.  Barnum  won,  but  this  time  the  old  showman  actually  lost,  for  the 
site  advanced  in  value  so  much  that  Bennett  subsequently  realized  about  ten 
times  the  amount  Barnum  compelled  him  to  pay. 

Barnum  always  gave  a  good  show  for  a  moderate  price, — 50  cents.  He 
may  have  liked  to  fool  the  people  but  he  never  fooled  them  on  the  one  important 
point — he  always  gave  value  and  good  value  for  money  received. 

THE  OLD  BOWERY 

This  theatre  is  one  that  was  close  to  the  hearts  of  the  East  Side  New  Yorker 
in  the  days  when  "the  Bowery"  was  one  of  the  show  places  of  the  town — and  later 
when  it  was  one  of  the  most  dangerous  at  night.  The  theatre,  however,  ranks 
high  in  the  annals  of  our  local  stage,  as  it  was  one  of  the  three  important  houses 
in  the  early  days. 

In  fact,  so  vigorous  was  the  competition  of  the  Bowery  when  it  opened  that 
the  New  York  Mirror  was  constrained  to  print  an  article  to  the  effect  that  the 
"four  theatres  were  too  much  for  New  York  to  support,"  a  complaint  which,  by 
the  way,  we  often  hear  to-day,  only  the  number  is  larger. 

Forrest,  Eddy,  Kean,  Kirby,  Cushman  and  other  great  actors  played  at  the 
Bowery.  But  it  is  the  Bowery  of  later  days  that  New  York  is  familiar  with, 
and  some  of  us  can  still  recall  the  old  place  as  it  is  described  below. 


[212] 


A  $n>rzg  Hunting  in  Nro  $ork  Stay, 
Aiwtlj*r  of  ttj?  jFamnua  Sftinrtt  AquntintB 


A  HAY  BOAT  IN  THE  BAY  :  THIS  PICTURESQUE  FEATURE  OF  OUR 
LOCAL  MARINE  LIFEISNO  LONGER  SEEN,  BUT  TIME  WAS  WHEN  THE 
NARROWS  WERE  FILLED  WITH  THEM.  THEY  GATHERED  THEIR  LOADS 
FROM  THE  FARMS  ALONG  THE  JERSEY  SHORE  AND  LONG  ISLAND  AND 
SOLD  THE  CARGOES  IN  THE  CITY.  IT  WAS  CHEAPER  TO  TRANSPORT 
THEM  BY  THIS  MEANS  THAN  ANY  OTHER  METHOD  THEN  EXISTING. 
THIS  IS  AS  LATE  AS  1860. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR.  ROBERT  GOELET. 


"Wake  me  Up  when  Kirby  Dies" 


To  preserve  order  in  the  gallery,  several  guards  or  "huskies,"  armed  with 
rattan  canes,  were  required.  These  acted  literally  in  obeying  the  injunction 
not  to  spare  the  rod.  The  boys,  however,  were  rarely  expelled  for  boisterousness, 
although  they  dubbed  these  functionaries  "posts."  Negroes  sat  in  a  pen  in  the 
centre  of  the  top  gallery,  roughly  fenced  off,  and  paid  35  cents  for  a  seat  on  a 
hard  bench. 

The  patrons  got  good  measure  for  their  money.  The  theatre  closed  in  the 
early  morning  after  a  one-act  farce,  a  five-act  melodrama  and  a  two-act  after- 
piece. The  old  straw  man,  a  well-known  character  about  town,  who  figures  else- 
where in  these  pages,  furnished  the  subject  of  the  play  on  one  occasion.  He 
sold  straw  from  an  old  hayrack  and  his  merchandise  was  on  more  than  one  occa- 
sion burned  by  young  incendiaries,  bent  on  mischievous  entertainment. 

There  was  a  great  long  lunch  counter  under  the  first  balcony  and  back  of 
the  pit,  and  while  they  watched  G.  L.  Fox  and  his  players,  the  boys  of  the  '60s 
used  to  regale  themselves  with  apples,  oranges,  "bolivars,"  Washington  pie,  pea- 
nuts, soda  water,  sarsaparilla,  and  rose  to  the  climaxes  of  the  play  with  their 
mouths  full  of  pigs'  feet  and  pie!  And  how  they  did  hustle  to  get  the  neces- 
sary price  of  admission  to  the  pit  of  the  theatre! 

"The  Cataract  of  the  Ganges"  and  "Mazeppa,  the  Wild  Horse  of  the  Tar- 
tars," were  favorites  at  the  Bowery.  The  horse  in  the  latter  drama  was  ridden 
by  Ada  Heenan.  She  was  clad  only  in  tights  and  fastened  by  ropes  to  the  horse's 
back,  and  occasioned  much  wonder  that  the  ropes  did  not  hurt  her.  When  the 
wild  horse  rushed  up  the  stage  declivities,  higher  and  still  higher,  until  the  roof  at 
the  rear  was  reached,  it  was  a  most  exciting  scene  and  very  thrilling  to  the  boys 
in  the  gallery. 

When  Kirby  played  he  had  one  scene  where  he  died  all  over  the  stage,  and 
the  boys  knew  his  play  by  heart,  having  seen  it  so  often  that  all  they  cared  for  was 
to  see  him  die.  Many  of  them  would  go  to  sleep  and  only  asked  to  be  awakened 
when  Kirby  died.  In  fact,  this  came  to  be  quite  a  saying  and  was  often  heard  in 
the  street:  "Wake  me  up  when  Kirby  dies." 

The  poor  old  Bowery!  For  many  years  now  it  has  never  even  heard  Eng- 
lish spoken  within  its  walls,  to  say  nothing  of  its  stage.  As  the  "Thalia"  its  pres- 
ent patrons  know  nothing  of  its  historic  past  nor  of  the  important  part  it  played 
in  the  early  days  of  New  York's  theatres. 


"HUMPTY  DUMPTY"  AND  GEORGE  L.  FOX,  ITS  CREATOR 

The  old  Olympic  Theatre,  formerly  Laura  Keene's,  was  located  on  the  east 
side  of  Broadway,  between  Houston  and  Bleecker  Streets.  It  was  here  that 
George  L.  Fox  first  gave  his  famous  production  of  "Humpty  Dumpty,"  which  is 
unparalleled  on  any  English-speaking  stage  in  the  matter  of  a  continuous  run. 
This  pantomime  continued  in  popularity  for  three  consecutive  seasons — or  Vol- 


[  215  ] 


Booth,  Bangs,  Barrett  and  Davenport 


umes,"  as  Fox  called  them,  hence  Vol.  I,  II  and  III.  The  cast  comprised  C.  K. 
Fox,  a  brother  of  George,  as  Pantaloon;  a  Ravel,  not  of  the  famous  Ravel  fam- 
ily, as  Harlequin;  Fanny  Beane,  a  daughter  of  George  Beane,  himself  a  pop- 
ular Pantaloon,  was  Columbine,  while  Alice  Harrison,  sister  of  Louis  Harrison, 
was  a  Fairy.    Fox  himself,  of  course,  was  Humpty  Dumpty. 

Pantomimes  in  those  days  were  exceedingly  popular,  especially  among  chil- 
dren, and  there  was  hardly  a  youngster  in  the  entire  city  who  hadn't  seen  "Humpty 
Dumpty"  or  laughed  at  the  antics  of  Fox,  who  was  the  greatest  clown  of  his  or  any 
other  day,  and  the  greatest  personal  favorite  of  children.  "Cinderella  and  the 
Glass  Slipper"  was  another  prime  success;  also  Hanlon's  "Superba."  These  pan- 
tomimes were  usually  given  around  Christmas  time,  and  many  a  child  looked  for- 
ward to  the  night  of  "Humpty  Dumpty"  as  the  greatest  event  in  its  life.  This 
wholesome  form  of  entertainment  seems  to  have  lost  its  potency — at  least  there 
are  no  more  of  them,  more's  the  pity. 


NIBLO'S  GARDEN 

For  many  years  this  popular  resort  ranked  high  in  the  affection  of  many 
New  Yorkers.  Many  notable  performances  were  given  there  by  distinguished 
members  of  the  profession,  but  in  the  popular  mind  it  is  remembered  only  as  the 
home  of  Kiralfy's  "Black  Crook"  and  Lydia  Thompson's  famous  troupe  of 
"British  Blondes."  It  may  truly  be  described  as  the  birthplace  of  tights  as  a 
vehicle  of  entertainment  and  its  votaries  as  the  worshippers  of  the  Leg  Show. 

At  the  time,  nothing  so  dazzling,  so  spectacular  and  withal  so  stupendous  had 
ever  been  attempted  on  the  American  stage,  and  the  fame  of  its  plays  spread  to 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  country.  It  was  followed  by  others  of  a  similar  char- 
acter— -"Queen  of  the  Amazons,"  "The  White  Fawn,"  etc.  Pauline  Markham,  Lizzie 
Kelcey  and  Liza  Weber,  who  appeared  in  these  plays,  will  be  remembered  by  many. 

Niblo's  Garden  is  entitled  to  remembrance  for  other  and,  I  think,  better 
things.  Adelina  Patti  appeared  there  at  the  age  of  eight  years,  and  her  voice 
and  execution  excited  great  admiration  and  astonishment.  Mme.  Patti  herself 
has  recently  said  of  this  concert: 

"I  sang  on  the  stage  from  my  seventh  to  my  eleventh  years,  and  carried  on 
my  doll  when  I  made  my  first  appearance  in  public  at  the  former  age,  singing  'Ah! 
non  giunge' — the  finale  of  the  third  act  of  'La  Sonnambula' — in  a  concert  at  Niblo's 
Garden,  December  3,  1851.  I  remember  the  occasion  as  well  as  though  it  were 
yesterday,  and  can  even  recall  the  dress  I  wore — a  white  silk  with  little  trimming." 

E.  L.  Davenport  as  Brutus,  Lawrence  Barrett  as  Cassius,  Theodore  Ham- 
ilton as  Ccesar,  and  Walter  Montgomery  as  Mark  Antony,  played  in  an  "all- 
star"  production  at  Niblo's  Garden  in  1870.  Walter  Montgomery  was  a  mag- 
nificent Antony,  and  his  delivery  was  as  superb  as  his  figure.  He  once  told  the 
"supers"  at  rehearsal,  "Now,  boys,  when  I  tell  you  about  Caesar's  will  you  must  get 


[216] 


COPYRrGHT 


iftrst  uTrijj  an  au  fclroatrii  Snab.  1867 


TALK  ABOUT  ORVILLE  WRIGHT  AND  COUNT  ZEPPELIN!  THEIR  AC- 
COMPLISHMENTS ARE  AS  NOTHING  COMPARED  TO  THE  HAIR-RAISING 
TRIP  OF  CHARLES  T  HARVEY  ON  THE  FIRST  ELEVATED  LINE  ON 
GREENWICH  STREET  TO  SHOW  THE  PEOPLE  OF  THIS  TOWN  THAT 
THE  TRAIN  WOULD  NOT  JUMP  THE  TRACK!  IT  WAS  THEN  CALLED 
THE  WEST  SIDE  AND  YONKERS  PATENT  RAILWAY  COMPANY.  BUT 
WAS  POPULARLY  KNOWN  AS  THE  GILBERT  ELEVATED  RAILWAY 
IT  RAN  FROM  FOURTEENTH  STREET  TO  MORRIS  ON  GREENWICH 
STREET.  AND  WAS  OPENED  SHORTLY  AFTER  THE  SUCCESSFUL 
DEMONSTRATION  GIVEN  ABOVE.  ON  ANOTHER  PAGE  WE  SHOW 
THE  ROAD  IN  OPERATION  A  YEAR  LATER 

THOMAS  GEREHART.  ONE  OF  THE  PRESENT  OFFICIALS  OF  THE  IN- 
TERBOROUGH  SUBWAY.  IS  SHOWN  TO  THE  RIGHT  OF  THE  POLICE 
OFFICER     HE  IS  STILL  IN  THE  ACTIVE  SERVICE  OF  THE  ROAD 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR    FRANK  MEDLEY 


The  Eea  of  Tights 


excited.  Stir  around  and  say  things  to  each  other."  The  order  was  literally  obeyed, 
and  at  the  ensuing  performances  the  "Roman  Mob"  displayed  a  startling  if  rather 
anachronistic  familiarity  with  the  slang  and  profanity  of  the  adjacent  Crosby 
Street  and  Jersey  Alley. 

THE  BROADWAY  THEATRE 

One  of  the  most  widely  known  actors  in  the  '50s,  rarely  known  by  any  other 
name  than  "The  Wizard  of  the  North,"  was  John  Henry  Anderson,  a  Scotchman, 
who  once  owned  a  theatre  in  Glasgow,  where  he  played  Rob  Roy.  Anderson  never 
failed  to  refer  to  that.  While  he  was  showing  his  tricks  at  the  Broadway  Theatre, 
he  one  night  met  Marzetti,  a  member  of  the  Ravel  company,  who  had  made  a 
name  for  himself  in  the  character  of  the  Brazilian  Ape,  at  Shelley's,  a  famous  res- 
taurant, diagonally  across  Broadway  on  the  corner  of  Worth  Street.  The  two 
proceeded  to  drink  together,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  wizard  "waur  fu"  and 
desired  to  repair  to  his  boarding  house.  Marzetti,  quite  sober,  offered  to  accom- 
pany him,  but  the  wizard,  drawing  himself  up  in  the  most  approved  dramatic  style, 
declaimed,  "Rob  Roy  Macgregor  and  the  Brazilian  Ape!  Nay,  nay!  I'll  gang 
alane."  And  "gang  alane"  he  did. 

THE  FAMOUS  RAVELS 

No  account  of  old  New  York  theatres  is  complete  without  mention  of  one  of 
the  most  famous  troupes  that  ever  played  within  its  walls.  They  were  pantomim- 
ists  and  such  was  their  popularity  that  their  visit  from  England,  originally  de- 
signed to  last  a  season,  extended  to  nearly  thirty  years,  during  all  of  which  time 
they  maintained  their  popularity  and  were  greeted  by  crowded  houses.  So  far 
back  do  they  go  that  few  are  now  left  who  can  recall  the  original  family.  They 
opened  at  the  Park  Theatre,  and  afterwards  played  in  many  others.  They  were 
the  introducers  of  the  pantomime  in  this  country  and  were  responsible  for  the  cre- 
ation of  our  own  G.  L.  Fox,  who  even  outdistanced  his  sponsors  in  the  excellence 
of  his  work  and  his  huge  successes. 

"Bianco,"  "Mazulm  the  Night  Owl,"  "Raoul,  or  the  Magic  Star,"  "The  Green 
Monster,"  "The  Red  Gnome,"  "The  Golden  Axe,"  "The  Magic  Pills,"  "The  Magic 
Trumpet,"  "The  Chalmaux,"  "Les  Deux  Fugitives,"  "Kodinsky  the  Skater"  and 
"The  Schoolmaster"  were  among  their  favorite  pantomimes. 

Gabriel  and  Francois  Ravel,  who  were  the  most  prominent  of  the  family, 
the  Martinetti  family,  the  Zanfretta  family,  Espanola,  the  great  dancer,  and 
others  of  equal  celebrity  and  ability  comprised  the  company  during  the  middle  '50s. 

J ohnny  Haslem,  of  late  years  with  the  Hanlons,  was  adopted  by  the  Ravels 
during  one  of  their  visits  and  became  famous  as  Young  America.  The  Ravels 
played  on  one  occasion  at  the  Cremorne  Gardens,  on  the  site  of  the  present  Four- 


[219] 


Curious  Happenings  in  1802 


teenth  Street  Theatre  and  Ninth  Regiment  Armory,  at  Sixth  Avenue  and  Four- 
teenth Street.  When  the  Bowery  Theatre  was  run  by  Fox  and  Lingard,  all  the 
Ravel  pantomimes  were  produced  there  by  George  L.  Fox,  our  own  great  clown 
and  pantomimist.  Neither  the  Ravel  family  as  pantomimists  nor  George  L.  Fox 
as  clown  has  ever  been  surpassed  by  the'r  competitors  or  successors. 


IN  1802:  ODDITIES 

Let  us  go  back  for  a  moment  to  1802  and  see  what  was  going  on  in  New  York 

City. 

NEW  FERRY 

December  11,  1802. 

A  new  ferry,  we  understand,  has  lately  been  established  by  Mr.  N.  Budd  between  Powies  Hook  and  this 

city. 

The  ferry  on  the  Jersey  Shore  is  somewhat  to  the  northward  of  the  old  Ferry  kept  by  Major  Hunt. 
The  terms  are  said  to  be  lower  than  those  of  the  old  establishment.  The  competition  of  Ferry  Boats,  like 
that  of  public  vehicles,  must  always  prove  beneficial  to  the  Community. 

Here's  an  advertisement  that  looks  odd  enough  in  these  days : 

JOHN  TIEBOUT 
NO.  246  WATER  STREET,  NEAR  PECK  SLIP, 
HAS  FOR  SALE 
LOTTERY  TICKETS 
IN  HALVES,  QUARTERS  AND  EIGHTHS 
 o  

BLANK  BOOKS  OF  EVERY  DESCRIPTION 
BIBLES  OF  EVERY  SIZE 

 o  

REUBEN  AND  RACHEL: 
OR  TALES  OF  OLD  TIMES,  BY  MRS.  ROWSON, 
ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 

December  18,  1802. 

And  a  news  item  that  seems  strangely  curious: 

MELANCHOLY  ACCIDENT:  COW  GORES  CITIZEN  IN  BEEKMAN  STREET 

On  Thursday  afternoon,  as  a  man  of  genteel  appearance  was  passing  along  Beekman  Street,  he  was  at- 
tacked by  a  cow,  and  notwithstanding  his  endeavors  to  avoid  her,  and  the  means  he  used  to  beat  her  off,  we 
are  sorry  to  say  that  he  was  so  much  injured  as  to  be  taken  up  dead. 

The  cow  was  afterward  killed  in  William  Street.  We  have  not  been  able  to  learn  the  name  of  the  de- 
ceased. Daily  Ad. 


[  220  ] 


illjr  $rlrr  (Snrlrt  ffinusr,  Urnaiuuag  anii  1 3th  g>trrrt 


THE  OLD  PETER  GOELET  HOMESTEAD.  THAT  STOOD  TILL  QUITE 
RECENTLY  ON  THE  CORNER  OF  BROADWAY  AND  19m  STREET. 
NORTHEAST 

AN  UNUSUAL  AND  STRIKING  FEATURE  THAT  NEVER  FAILED  TO 
ATTRACT  THE  ATTENTION  OF  THE  PASSERBY  WAS  THE  TURKEYS 
THE  CHICKENS.  THE  COW.  AND  LAST  BUT  NOT  LEAST  THE  BEAUTI- 
FUL WHITE  AND  BLUE  PEACOCKS  AND  CHINESE  GOLDEN  PHEAS- 
ANTS, ALL  OF  WHICH  MAINTAINED  THEIR  COMPOSURE  THROUGH 
ALL  THE  BUSTLE  AND  DIN  OF  BROADWAY  LIFE  AS  LATE  AS  1903 
THIS  CORNER  WAS  ORIGINALLY  OUT  IN  THE  SU  B  U  R  BS- B  U  I  LT  IN 
1833  — AND  RETAINED  TILL  ITS  DEMOLITION  THE  RUSTIC  AIR  IN 
WHICH  IT  WAS  BORN  AND  TO  WHICH  IT  HAD  ALWAYS  BEEN 
ACCUSTOMED 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION    OF   MR    ROBERT  GOELET. 


OLD-TIME  FERRY-BOATS  ON  THE  EAST 
AND  NORTH  RIVERS 


It  seems  strange  to  gaze  upon  the  deserted  slips  and  houses  of  the  old-time 
ferry  lines.  It  seems  but  yesterday  that  the  plaza  at  the  foot  of  Roosevelt  Street 
was  jammed  solid  from  one  side  to  the  other  with  numberless  vehicles  of  all  possible 
sorts  and  descriptions.  A  narrow  pathway  was  with  difficulty  kept  open  for  foot 
passengers  who  passed  in  endless  procession  from  four  until  seven.  Only  a  few  of 
the  many  thousands  on  each  trip  could  be  accommodated  with  seats  and  a  tem- 
porary delay  of  a  few  minutes  was  sufficient  to  pack  the  passages  so  tightly  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  get  the  evening  paper  out  of  your  pocket.  Despite  all  this 
terrible  crush,  I  cannot  recall  any  very  serious  accident  as  a  result,  though  the 
slightest  panic  or  any  sudden  movement  such  as  was  liable  to  sway  a  crowd  could 
not  help  but  have  jostled  a  great  many  persons  into  the  water.  They  totally 
disregarded  the  chains  strung  across  the  decks  forward  and  aft  for  their  protec- 
tion, and  the  small  boy,  who  was  numerous,  frequently  sat  with  his  legs  dangling 
over  the  edge  of  the  boat,  unmindful  of  danger  and  regardless  of  the  wetting  he 
occasionally  got  as  the  ferry  struck  the  swell  of  some  passing  vessel.  The  fare 
charged  on  the  Roosevelt  Street  line  was  nine  tickets  for  a  quarter,  three  cents  per 
single  trip.  Fulton  Street  charged  two  cents  during  the  day  and  one  cent  during 
rush  hours.  Greenpoint,  I  think,  was  five  cents.  Catherine  Street  was  two  cents 
and  Staten  Island  ten  cents. 

The  Staten  Island  Ferries  provided  the  longest  and  most  delightful  sail  then 
as  they  do  now.  But  a  fleet  of  sidewheelers  that  formed  the  first  real  rapid  transit 
between  Harlem  and  downtown  were  extremely  popular.  They  were  the  Sylvan 
Glen,  Sylvan  Stream  and  Sylvan  Dell,  and  they  ran  from  130th  Street  to  about 
the  foot  of  Fulton  Street.  During  a  large  part  of  the  year,  it  was  a  delightful  sail 
and  many  New  Yorkers  can  still  recall  the  neat,  speedy  and  comfortable  Harlem 
boats.  The  fare  was  ten  cents  and  the  running  time  varied  somewhat  according  to 
the  tide,  but  usually  consumed  from  three-quarters  to  an  hour. 

The  tide  always  made  a  great  deal  of  difference  in  the  running  time  of  all  the 
ferries.  The  East  River  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  a  river,  but  is  a  strait  of  the 
sea  and  is  consequently  subject  to  the  usual  rise  and  fall  of  the  tide.  Every  regu- 
lar patron  of  these  ferries  knew  the  effect  of  an  adverse  tide  and  took  an  earlier 
boat  or  a  later  one,  according  to  conditions.  Generally  speaking,  the  tide  would 
be  "down"  or  "up"  practically  a  week  at  a  time,  so  one  usually  governed  his  leav- 
ing time  accordingly.  I  have  known  a  particularly  strong  tide  to  so  impede  a 
Roosevelt  ferry  as  to  add  fifteen  minutes  to  her  regular  schedule  in  so  short  a  dis- 
tance as  from  Roosevelt  Street  to  Broadway,  Brooklyn. 


[  223  ] 


Great  Delay  Caused  by  Ice 


The  ferries  that  crossed  the  river  directly,  such  as  Grand  Street,  Fulton 
Street,  Wall  Street,  etc.,  were  manned  by  pilots  of  rare  skill  in  judging  the  strength 
of  the  tide  and  making  allowances  for  the  swing  of  it.  A  miscalculation  would 
involve  annoying  delays  as  the  ferry  would  be  carried  past  her  slip  and  considerable 
maneuvering  would  be  necessary  to  get  her  on  her  true  course  again.  When  per- 
sons were  late  at  the  office  it  was  customary  for  the  boss  to  inquire  sarcastically 
"Fog  on  the  river?" 

The  delays  occasioned  by  fog  were  exasperating  in  the  extreme,  and  if  any- 
thing, the  North  River  ferries  were  the  hardest  hit.  The  Staten  Island  Ferry 
went  out  of  business  entirely.  But,  of  course,  the  traffic  on  this  line  was  nothing 
compared  to  the  huge  population  coming  from  the  nearby  suburbs  of  New  Jersey 
brought  by  the  railroads  to  their  terminals  in  Jersey  City.  The  width  of  the  North 
River  made  the  trip  almost  too  hazardous  except  at  Cortlandt  Street,  and  despite 
the  efforts  to  keep  this  line  open,  the  inconvenience  and  loss  occasioned  by  this 
condition  of  affairs  was  a  serious  matter. 

Brooklyn  fared  slightly  better,  as  the  Grand,  Fulton  and  Wall  Street  lines 
were  so  close  together  that  it  was  almost  always  possible  to  get  across  during  the 
temporary  lifting  of  the  fog,  as  the  New  York  slip  was  directly  opposite  and  its 
friendly  bell  could  always  be  heard  and  by  that  the  pilot  steered.  Fog  bells  were 
an  important  part  of  every  ferry  equipment  and  were  built  at  the  farthest  extrem- 
ity of  the  slip.  They  were  continually  ringing  all  along  the  river  during  a  fog  and, 
in  conjunction  with  whistles,  made  the  river  front  a  pandemonium. 

Ice  was  also  a  serious  impediment  to  ferrying.  Huge  cakes  would  come  down 
both  rivers  and  pile  up  in  the  slips.  The  boats  would  sometimes  back  out  and  then 
come  on  under  full  speed  in  an  attempt  to  crush  the  ice  and  make  the  dock.  Some- 
times the  net  result  would  be  to  simply  drive  the  ice  up  out  of  the  water  and  on 
to  the  bridge;  in  which  event  the  passengers  crawled  over  the  piled  up  mass  and 
were  thus  disembarked.  Occasionally  both  rivers  froze  over  solidly  and  water 
communication  was  of  course  out  of  the  question.  Quite  a  number  of  persons 
still  living  can  boast  of  having  crossed  the  river  on  ice,  but  that  happened  only  a 
few  times  during  my  recollection.  It  is,  however,  a  matter  of  record  that  the  Bay 
itself  has  been  frozen  over  as  far  as  Staten  Island,  and  at  one  time  the  ice  remained 
solid  for  more  than  a  month  between  Jersey  City  and  the  Battery  so  that  teams 
made  the  trip  as  well  as  pedestrians.  Of  late  years  no  such  phenomenon  has 
occurred,  and  it  is  undoubtedly  a  fact  that  the  climate  of  New  York  has  greatly 
changed.  There  is  still  plenty  of  ice  in  the  rivers  in  season,  and  last  year,  1912, 
the  Hudson  was  frozen  over  as  far  down  as  Inwood.  On  the  approach  of  mild 
weather  the  Hudson  was  just  as  much  jammed  with  ice  as  in  the  days  of  which 
I  write,  but  fortunately  we  no  longer  rely  upon  ferries  and  are  consequently 
immune  from  the  old-time  annoyances. 

Some  of  the  ferries  are  still  running  but  are  no  longer  of  the  same  importance 
to  our  citizens.  They  exist  largely  for  the  transportation  of  trucks  and  automo- 
biles, and  in  all  probability  will  continue  to  perform  a  useful  service.  But  as  a 
main  artery  of  communication  their  practicality  has  ended. 

[  224  ] 


i 


!  APlIt 

IMS 


nn.es 
a [S3  n 
III 
EES. 


t tf i lit* 
tut  nil 


H  B  B  E  1  §  *JJ*5::  I  8  I  i  ri|B 


COPYRIGHT,  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN 


iBroaimiay  brtmpnt  ifflurrau  anil  Uarrrn  glrrrta,  1B5D 


TWO  VERY  OLD  FIRMS  ARE  SHOWN  IN  THIS  RARE  VIEW:  W.  ft  J. 
SLOANE  AND  BALL.  BLACK  ft  CO  BOTH  ARE  NOW  ON  UPPER 
FIFTH  AVENUE.  AND  SINGULARLY  ENOUGH  ARE  STILL  NEAR 
NEIGHBORS. 

UNTIL  THIS  LAST  MOVE  SLOANE  HAS  ALWAYS  HAD  A  BROADWAY 
LOCATION  THE  FIRM  NAME  HAS  NEVER  CHANGED.  AND  IT  IS  THE 
OLDEST  HOUSE  IN  ITS  LINE  IN  THE  CITY. 

FROM    THE   COLLECTION    OF    MR    JOHN  SLOANE. 


STREET  CAR  BEGINNINGS 


Public  conveyances  for  street  traffic  were  established  at  the  beginning  of  the 
famous  stage-coach  days.  These  vehicles  went  through  many  amazing  changes  and 
increased  in  number  so  greatly  that  lower  Broadway  at  times  was  made  impassable 
by  their  huge  and  swaying  bodies.  Long  after  these  stages  had  finally  passed  in  all 
other  streets  of  the  city,  they  remained  a  picturesque  and  curious  feature  of  Broad- 
way life  as  late  as  1884.  They  marked  the  first  municipal  effort  to  afford  trans- 
portation to  the  citizens  of  New  York  and  performed  a  wonderful  service  in  their 
day. 

Meanwhile,  the  ever-increasing  demand  for  better  facilities  directed  the  atten- 
tion of  inquiring  minds  to  the  problem.  As  a  result,  New  York  gave  to  the  world 
the  idea  of  horse-cars  on  rails,  an  idea  which  has  been  of  wonderful  value  to  man- 
kind in  its  convenience.  Thirty  years  after  they  had  been  successfully  operated  in 
this  country,  they  were  introduced  into  Europe  by  the  late  George  Francis  Train. 
So  that,  no  matter  where  you  roam — in  Europe,  Asia,  Africa  or  Japan — wherever 
you  see  a  horse-car  or  a  tramway,  you  can  always  feel  proud  to  know  that  little 
old  New  York  invented  the  system  and  inaugurated  the  first  successful  street  car 
line  in  the  world. 

The  first  street  cars  in  New  York  commenced  running  about  1832,  and  the  line  extended 
from  Prince  Street,  then  the  northernmost  limits  of  the  city,  to  Harlem  Bridge.  The  cars 
were  curiously  shaped  affairs,  each  having  their  compartments  with  side  doors,  somewhat  like 
the  English  railway  trains  of  to-day.  They  were  balanced  on  leather  springs  and  the  driver 
sat  overhead  with  the  brake  at  his  feet.  They  were  built  by  John  Stephenson,  whose  shop  in 
Twenty-eighth  Street  is  still  pointed  out. 

These  bus  cars,  as  they  were  called,  ran  on  Second  Avenue  and  other  avenues  also.  They 
had  an  iron  ladder  on  the  rear  running  to  the  roof,  and  on  these  ladders  boys  used  to  steal 
rides.  The  driver  sat  on  the  roof  and  had  a  whip  with  a  long  lash,  which  he  used  to  chase 
boys  off  the  ladder. 

The  regular  Sixth  Avenue  cars  had  a  sign  running  the  length  of  the  car  which  read, 
"Colored  Persons  allowed  to  ride  in  this  car."  About  every  sixth  car  had  this  sign.  The 
Eighth  Avenue  cars  had  a  dial  in  the  centre  of  the  car  which  the  conductor  pulled  for  each 
fare,  something  like  the  present  arrangement,  but  the  conductor  had  to  go  to  the  dial  with 
each  fare. 

On  the  Third  Avenue  line,  passengers  climbed  to  the  roof,  and  once  there  were  so  many 
passengers  on  the  roof  that  it  caved  in.  It  was  the  current  belief  that  every  conductor  on  the 
Third  Avenue  line  got  rich  in  those  days. 

When  a  lady  got  on  the  car,  the  conductor  would  call  for  some  man  to  give  her  a  seat,  and 
if  he  saw  a  boy  in  a  seat,  would  yank  him  out  of  it.  They  raised  the  fare  to  six  cents,  and 
then  there  was  trouble,  many  giving  the  nickel  and  throwing  the  extra  cent  out  of  the  window. 

Four-horse  stage  sleighs  ran  up  and  down  Broadway.  Thirty-third  Street  and  Broadway 
was  the  way  station.   The  sleighs  going  up  to  Manhattanville  went  up  the  Bloomingdale  Road. 


[  227] 


The  Old-time  Stage  Sleigh  in  Winter 


The  driver  sat  up  high  and  the  conductor  stood  on  the  step  at  the  rear.  He  collected  the 
fares  by  going  round  the  outside  of  the  sleigh,  walking  on  a  platform.  The  sleigh  was  filled 
with  clean  straw  to  keep  the  feet  warm.  It  was  considered  a  great  treat  to  make  the  trip  to 
the  Battery  and  back.  There  was  no  huge  Street  Cleaning  Department  in  those  days  as  now, 
and  the  snow  remained  undisturbed  till  the  spring  thaws. 

Others  of  these  cars  went  to  Canal  Street  and  Broadway  and  turned  around  on  a  turn- 
stile or  plate  in  the  ground.  The  small  boys  of  the  day  were  given  to  swiping  oil  by  pulling 
out  a  rubber  plug,  shaped  like  the  present  day  rubber  cork,  which  covered  an  oil  hole,  by  which 
the  running  gear  of  the  stage  car  wheels  was  kept  in  smooth  running  order.  The  Sixth  Avenue 
line  also  had  mules  drawing  their  cars. 

The  old  Dry  Dock  stages  ran  through  Grand  Street  to  the  Bowery,  thence  to  the  Battery ; 
and  some  ran  through  East  Broadway  to  the  Battery.  The  Canal  Street  line  ran  from  Grand 
Street  ferry  to  the  foot  of  Canal  Street.  They  also  ran  on  the  Belt  line  before  horses  took 
their  places.  Each  passenger  on  a  stage  was  his  own  conductor.  He  passed  his  fare  through 
the  opening  and  pulled  a  strap  attached  to  the  foot  of  the  driver  to  attract  his  attention. 
When  a  lady  paid  her  fare,  the  man  nearest  the  opening  passed  it  up  for  her.  The  driver 
kept  tabs  on  the  passengers,  and  if  one  did  not  pay  his  fare,  he  would  pound  on  the  roof  of 
the  car  for  the  guilty  wretch  till  he  came  across. 

In  these  early  days,  street  cars  were  also  shamefully  overcrowded  and  very  uncomfort- 
able. No  heat  was  provided  in  winter,  the  floors  being  strewn  with  straw  in  lieu  of  stoves, 
which  the  passengers  deposited  in  the  street  at  irregular  intervals  as  they  alighted.  In  sum- 
mer the  heat  was  stifling,  the  windows  being  stationary.  "Bobtail"  cars  were  common;  i.  e., 
cars  in  which  the  driver  acted  also  as  conductor.  You  were  expected  to  deposit  your  fare  upon 
entering,  and  a  failure  to  do  so  would  promptly  produce  a  loud  ringing  and  knocking  on  the 
fare  box  by  the  irate  driver. 

The  rebellious,  pushing  and  impatient  subway  crowd  of  to-day,  scowling  and  frowning  at 
a  few  minutes'  delay,  would  have  been  in  a  sorry  plight  forty-five  years  ago !  To  take  a  Second 
Avenue  horse  car  at  the  depot,  then  between  Sixty-third  and  Sixty-fourth  Streets,  after  a  heavy 
snowstorm,  and  get  down  to  Canal  Street  in  less  than  two  hours  was  a  wonderful  feat. 

The  four  horses  would  have  a  fairly  good  chance  to  get  the  crowded  car  as  far  as  the 
foot  of  the  hill  at  Forty-eighth  Street,  with  one  driver  managing  the  brake  and  an  assistant 
handling  the  reins  and  a  far-reaching  whip.  But  here  began  the  tug  of  war,  and  with  few 
exceptions  the  occasion  was  enlivened  by  the  sonorous  voice  of  the  conductor  requesting  all 
the  "gentlemen"  to  get  out  and  give  a  hand.  As  a  rule  all  but  the  ladies  complied,  and  then, 
amid  vociferous  curses,  hollering  and  whipping  of  the  horses,  the  car  would  be  moved  up  half 
a  block  or  so,  only  to  stop  again  and  have  the  process  repeated. 

Those  were  happy  days  for  the  thrifty  conductors,  who  at  that  time  knew  nothing  of  any 
fare  registering  dials  and  but  very  little  of  spotters.  Their  left  hands  were  encumbered  with 
5-cent,  10-cent,  15-cent,  25-cent  and  50-cent  fractional  currency,  and  as  many  of  them  were  said 
to  be  property  owners,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  frequently  one  hand  didn't  know  what  the 
other  was  doing  with  the  company's  fares.  At  least,  the  fact  remains  that  with  the  introduc- 
tion later  on  of  registering  apparatus  there  came  a  great  change  among  street  car  conductors 
and  the  prosperous  looking  individuals  retired  and  were  seen  no  more. 

The  car  fare  was  then  6  cents  for  grown  people  and  3  cents  for  children.  In  response 
to  energetic  protest  by  the  public  tickets  were  finally  sold  at  the  rate  of  twenty  for  $1.03. 
As  the  conductors  usually  gauged  the  age  of  youngsters  by  size,  it  became  a  habit  to 
make  oneself  appear  as  small  as  possible  in  order  to  pass  on  a  three-cent  fare.    I  remember 


[  228  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H    C.  BROWN 


Sum-nut  nf  Adams  txurras  (£n..  1851 


THE  ABOVE  REPRESENTS  THE  CELEBRATION  OF  THE  SUCCESSFUL 
LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  CABLE.  A  COIL  OF  THE  CABLE  IS  BEING 
DRAWN  THROUGH  THE  STREETS  IN  A  SIX-HORSE  WAGON  OF  THE 
ADAMS  EXPRESS  COMPANY  THIS  WAS  ONE  OF  THE  FEATURES 
OF  THE  PARADE. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION    OF    MR    R    E.  DOWLING. 


COPYRIGHT.  I9!3.   H.  C.  BROWN 


THE  OLD  BRICK  PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH.  CORNER  NASSAU  STREET  AND  PARK  ROW.  1801.  USED 
AS  A  PRISON  DURING  THE  REVOLUTION.  THIS  PARCEL  WAS  THE  FIRST  INVESTMENT  IN 
REAL  ESTATE  MADE  BY  THE  LATE  O   B.  POTTER. 


Strange  Contrast  between  Then  and  Now 


being  caught  at  that  game  many  a  time,  being  yanked  up  and  told  by  the  conductor,  "Here, 
stand  up  straight  and  pay  your  full  fare."  Three  cents  looked  pretty  big  to  an  errand  boy 
then  receiving  $2.50  a  week  for  working  six  days  from  7  o'clock  to  6  o'clock,  with  no  half 
holidays  on  Saturdays  nor  any  summer  vacation  to  be  thought  of.  These  were  the  alleged 
"good  old  days." 

It  is  hard  to  realize  the  discomforts  inflicted  upon  our  citizens  by  the  street  cars  of  that 
day.  The  abuse  of  the  poor  horses  was  also  a  continually  annoying  experience.  In  fact,  this 
had  much  to  do  with  the  formation  of  Henry  Bergh's  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Animals,  although  in  other  directions  the  work  of  the  society  was  equally  needed. 

The  present  double-decked  power-drawn  street  car  is  an  amazing  improvement  over  the 
transit  of  other  and  all  too  recent  days,  and  when  we  add  the  elevated  and  subway  systems, 
it  seems  as  if  the  era  of  horse-drawn  cars  belonged  to  another  civilization.  Few  features  of 
metropolitan  life  have  changed  so  radically  and  so  swiftly  as  this  mode  of  transit,  and  when 
the  present  subway  plans  are  completed,  New  York  will  enjoy  the  most  stupendous  system  of 
local  transit  known  to  history. 

The  growth  of  population  and  the  curious  conformation  of  the  island  has  hitherto  made 
it  impossible  to  exist  without  the  "straphanger."  In  a  city  whose  population  insists  upon 
being  wholly  moved,  either  up  or  down,  at  practically  the  same  moment,  it  is  doubtful  if  this 
condition  can  ever  be  changed.  It  is  one  of  the  incidents  inseparable  from  life  in  the  big 
town  and  the  only  way  to  escape  it  is  to  move  away. 

The  old  bus  cars  and  stages  found  various  uses  after  service  in  New  York.  A  number  of 
them  were  taken  to  Jamaica,  L.  I.,  and  used  on  the  line  which  ran  from  there  to  East  New 
York. 

By  a  strange  coincidence,  it  was  on  this  same  Jamaica-East  New  York  line,  where  these 
antiquated  relics  were  used,  that  the  first  electric  street  cars  operated  in  the  State  of  New 
York  were  run,  the  first  used  in  the  United  States  having  been  run  at  Scranton,  Pa. 

****** 
HOW  WE  CLING  TO  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Strange  to  relate,  our  city  is,  with  the  exception  of  Block  Island,  the  only  place 
where  you  can  still  see  man's  best  friend  dragging  street  cars.  How  we  love  the 
good  old  days! 

"Albany,  April  24  [1913]. — The  Assembly  passed  to-day  the  Silver-Stein  bill  making 
it  a  misdemeanor  to  operate  horse  cars  in  first-class  cities.  The  bill  is  aimed  at  the  New  York 
horse  cars." 


[281] 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  ELEVATED  RAILROADS 


The  following  circular,  issued  by  the  N.  Y.  Elevated  Railroad  Company  in 
1872,  is  one  of  the  quaintest  and  most  interesting  documents  that  have  come  be- 
fore us  in  the  preparation  of  this  book. 

Imagine  the  company,  as  we  know  it,  boasting  of  carrying  only  1,300  passen- 
gers per  day.  And  also — but  tell  it  not  in  Gath — "we  take  no  more  than  can 
be  seated"!    But  we  must  let  our  readers  enjoy  it  for  themselves. 

New  York,  October  10th,  1872. 

Inclosed  please  find  a  Time  Table  according  to  which  we  are  now  running  our  trains. 

We  now  take  and  receive  passengers  at  Morris,  Dey,  Canal,  Twelfth  and  Twenty-ninth 
Streets.  We  run  four  unique,  elegantly  finished  and  furnished  cars,  made  expressly  for  our 
road,  capable  of  seating  44  passengers  each,  and  we  take  no  more  than  can  be  seated.  We 
are  frequently  compelled  to  refuse  passengers,  after  our  cars  are  full.  We  carry  about  1300 
daily. 

We  are  building  additional  Rolling  Stock,  and  Stations  at  Franklin  and  Twenty-first 
Streets;  these  will  be  completed  about  the  1st  of  December,  when  we  shall  commence  run- 
ning about  twice  as  many  trains  daily  as  now 

We  contemplate  building  four  additional  Stations  and  three  Turnouts  below  Thirtieth 
Street,  and  largely  increasing  our  rolling  stock.  This  would  enable  us  to  run  every  ten  min- 
utes each  way.  We  are  also  considering  the  matter  of  another  track  and  extending  the  double 
track  to  the  Harlem  River. 

When  convenient  please  call  and  see  what  we  have  done  and  are  doing,  and  take  a  ride 
over  our  road.    Time  from  the  Battery  to  Thirtieth  Street  and  back,  30  minutes. 

We  believe  we  are  developing  what  will  enhance  the  value  of  real  estate,  solve  the  PROB- 
LEM of  quick  transit,  relieve  our  over-crowded  streets  and  sidewalks,  be  of  great  public  service, 
and  a  successful  paying  enterprise.  Hence  we  call  your  attention  to  our  undertaking  and 
invite  your  support,  co-operation  and  influence. 

Among  our  Stockholders  are  the  following  well-known  citizens  and  firms : 

Wm.  L.  Scott,  President.  War.  S.  Wallace,  Vice-President. 

Jas.  A.  Cowing,  Secretary  and  Treasurer.  D.  W.  Wyman,  Superintendent. 


John  F.  Tracy,  Esq. 
Alfred  S.  Barnes,  Esq. 
Jas.  W.  Elwell,  Esq. 
Walter  S.  Gurnie,  Esq. 
Jas.  R.  Jesup,  Esq. 
H.  Schcchardt,  Esq. 

Messrs.  Morton,  Bliss  & 


Dan'l  Torrance,  Esq. 
Stephen  H.  Thayer,  Esq. 
Alanson  Trask,  Esq. 
T.  C.  Durant,  Esq. 
A.  G.  Trask,  Esq. 
Sam'l  D.  Babcock,  Esq. 

Messrs.  Babcock  Bros. 


William  E.  Dodoe,  Esq. 
Jas.  B.  Johnston,  Esq. 
Edward  C.  Delevan,  Esq. 
J.  Q.  Preble,  Esq. 
W.  S.  Burns,  Esq. 
John  H.  Hall,  Esq. 
Morris  K.  Jesup,  Esq. 

Messrs.  Phelps,  Dodge  &  Co. 


Wm.  L.  Scott 

A.  H.  Barney 

F  H.  Tows 

Geo.  Howard  Marvin 


DIRECTORS 
Harvey  Kennedy 
D.  N.  Barney 
John  D.  Mairs 
A.  C.  Barnes 
Milton  Courtright 


David  Dowes 
Jas.  A.  Cowing 
Wm.  S.  Wallace 
Jno.  H.  Cowing 


[  232  ] 


mftuucfi/MKST  MARINERS  AIRTIIODLST  EPISCOPAL  CIILR(  H    >  .  n ^ 


COPYRIGHT 


Srgtmttng  of  tiff  ^ramatVa  Jlnatilutr 


THE  IMPOSING  STRUCTURE  RECENTLY  COMPLETED  AT  THE  CORNER 
OF  SOUTH  STREET.  AND  VISIBLE  FROM  THE  SEA  FOR  MANY  MILES. 
HAD  ITS  ORIGIN  IN  THE  SMALL  WOODEN  BUILDING  SHOWN  IN  THE 
PICTURE  ABOVE.  UNDER  THE  AUSPICES  OF  THE  M  ETHODIST  EPIS- 
COPAL CHURCH  THIS  ORGANIZATION  WAS  FOUNDED  FOR  THE  RE- 
LIEF AND  CARE  OF  SAILORS  IN  CHERRY  STREET.  1844.  ITS  ORIGI- 
NAL TRUSTEES  AND  FOUNDERS  ARE  NOTED  ON  THE  PICTURE. 
IT  HAS  ACCOMPLISHED  MUCH  GOOD  FOR  THE  CAUSE  IN  WHICH  IT 
IS  ENGAGED  AND  IN  ITS  MAGNIFICENT  NEW  BUILDING  HAS  THE 
MEANS  AND  THE  FACILITIES  TO  EXTEND  ITS  WORK  TO  A  POINT 
NEVER  DREAMED  OF  BY  ITS  PROGENITORS  THIS  IS  ONLY  ONE 
INSTANCE  OF  NUMEROUS  CHARITIES  IN  OUR  CITY  THAT  ACCOM- 
PLISH GREAT  GOOD  IN  AN  UNOSTENTATIOUS  MANNER. 
AN  ENDICOTT  LITHOGRAPH.  EXTREMELY  RARE.  THE  COPIES  WERE 
ORIGINALLY  SOLD  FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  THE  CHARITY. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  J.  CLARENCE  DAVIES. 


First  Elevated  Railway 


The  first  actual  operation  of  an  elevated  line  in  the  city  was  the  road  in  Green- 
wich Street  just  alluded  to,  of  which  we  have  the  following  account  from  Harper's 
Weekly  by  an  eyewitness  of  the  trip  in  1868: 

A  trial  trip  of  the  new  elevated  railway  in  Greenwich  Street  was  had  on  July  3,  and  the 
rapid  speed  which  was  attained  on  that  occasion  leads  the  friends  of  the  enterprise  to  hope 
that  the  problem  of  rapid  and  safe  locomotion  through  the  crowded  streets  of  the  city  has 
been  solved.  Our  illustration  will  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  this  new  style  of  railway.  It  is 
now  in  running  order  from  the  Battery  to  Cortlandt  Street,  and  with  the  present  machinery 
the  cars  can  be  propelled,  with  little  jar  and  oscillation,  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour. 
This  speed  was  attained  on  this  occasion ;  but  the  experiment  thus  far  has  developed  many  sug- 
gested improvements,  which  will  be  added  later  and  thus  enable  the  projectors  to  run  the  cars 
at  a  much  more  rapid  rate.    It  was  operated  by  drum  cables. 

The  work  was  begun  July  2,  1867,  $100,000  being  subscribed  for  the  experiment.  The 
State  Commissioners  on  July  1,  1868,  reported  in  its  favor,  declaring  it  a  success,  and  the 
Governor  authorized  the  completion  of  the  road  from  the  Battery  to  Spuyten  Duyvil,  and 
the  work  is  to  be  at  once  hastened  to  completion.  The  directors  promise  to  finish  it  to  the 
Thirtieth  Street  depot  of  the  Hudson  River  Railroad  by  the  first  of  1869. 

The  present  Subway  system,  which  stands  without  a  rival  in  the  world,  and 
when  completed  will  have  cost  a  sum  so  vast  as  to  be  almost  incomprehensible,  is 
no  more  than  is  needed  for  New  York's  present-day  necessities.  Both  the  Subway 
and  the  Elevated  are  now  combined  under  one  management,  and  to  the  extraor- 
dinary skill  of  Mr.  Frank  A.  Hedley  New  York  is  indebted  for  real  rapid  transit 
such  as  no  other  city  can  boast  of. 


FIRST  ORGANIZATION  OF  MOUNTED  POLICE 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  the  first  public  reference  to  the  newly  formed 
Mounted  Police.  The  following  account  from  Harper's  Weekly  in  1868  describes 
the  beginning  of  what  has  become  one  of  the  most  important  branches  of  the  Police 
Department,  which  is  growing  bigger  every  day : 

Superintendent  Kelso  may  well  be  proud  of  a  body  of  men  so  bravely  disposed  and  well 
disciplined  as  the  mounted  police,  one  of  whose  members  is  pictured  elsewhere  in  the  saddle  and 
ready  for  duty.  The  force  is  divided  into  two  squads,  one  of  sixteen  men,  under  Captain 
Alanson  S.  Wilson,  stationed  at  Carmansville ;  and  the  other  of  eighteen  men,  under  Sergeant 
Westing,  with  headquarters  in  West  Thirty-first  Street,  near  Eighth  Avenue.  It  is  the  duty 
of  Squad  No.  1  to  patrol,  day  and  night,  the  roads  and  lanes  between  Yonkers  and  Harlem, 
to  prevent  highway  robberies  or  house-breaking,  and  in  case  of  fires  to  gallop  to  the  nearest 
stations  with  the  tidings.  The  work  of  the  other  division  is  to  prevent  fast  driving  and  wagon 
thieving  on  Fifth,  Sixth,  Seventh  and  Eighth  Avenues.  Occasionally  an  emergency  may  arise 
(like  that  of  the  July  riot,  where  valuable  service  was  rendered)  in  which  both  companies  may 
be  quickly  summoned  to  headquarters  for  orders. 


[235] 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  TELEGRAPHY 


On  another  page  we  show  a  picture  of  the  corner  of  Wall  and  Broad  Streets 
as  it  was  in  1873.  This  building  is  of  particular  interest  as  being  the  first 
general  headquarters  of  the  Western  Union  Company,  a  corporation  formed  in 
Rochester  by  Hiram  Sibley  and  subsequently  brought  to  New  York.  This  was 
their  first  location. 

Telegraphy  in  those  days  was  still  in  its  swaddling  clothes.  Probably  a 
dozen  separate  companies  were  operating  in  different  parts  of  the  country  and  the 
service  was  more  or  less  impeded  by  the  constant  necessity  of  relaying  from  one 
company  to  another.  Mr.  Sibley  had  early  become  interested  in  Morse's  invention 
and  was  at  the  head  of  a  company  operating  up-state. 

So  rapidly  have  events  moved  in  telegraphy  that  it  seems  strange  to  read  that 
objection  was  made  by  the  directors  to  extending  the  line  westward  on  the  ground 
that  Indians  would  interfere  with  construction  work  and  that,  even  if  the  poles 
should  be  successfully  erected,  the  vast  herds  of  buffalo  still  roaming  our  Western 
prairies  would  tear  down  the  poles  in  their  wild  dashes  and  it  would  be  impossible 
to  keep  the  lines  in  repair. 

Such  were  only  a  few  of  the  objections  raised  by  capitalists  when  Mr.  Sibley 
sought  to  obtain  further  and  much  needed  funds  for  the  development  of  the  sys- 
tem. And  this  is  not  speaking  of  an  industry  that  can  boast  of  any  great  length 
of  years — men  are  still  in  service  in  the  company  who  can  recall  the  circumstances 
I  have  just  cited. 

Mr.  S.  F.  B.  Morse,  inventor  of  the  telegraph,  had  a  home  on  22d  Street, 
near  Fifth  Avenue,  in  New  York,  and  lived  to  see  his  invention  a  wonderful  suc- 
cess. He  originally  contemplated  art  as  a  career  but  met  with  so  little  encourage- 
ment that  he  took  up  electricity  instead.  It  is  not  unfair  to  say  that  whatever  the 
world  of  art  lost,  the  world  of  commerce  gained  an  hundred  fold. 

These  old  offices  were  the  scene  of  many  stirring  events.  It  was  not  long 
after  their  opening  that  Cyrus  Field  succeeded  finally  in  laying  the  Atlantic  cable. 
This  was  the  occasion  of  immense  rejoicing  in  New  York,  and  the  celebration  was 
an  event  long  to  be  remembered.  The  following  account  from  the  newspapers  of 
that  day  (Aug.,  1858)  is  of  interest: 

Never  since  the  celebration  of  peace  has  the  city  of  New  York  been  the  scene  of  so  much 
popular  excitement  and  enthusiasm,  or  presented  such  a  brilliant  appearance  as  it  did  last 
night,  in  the  celebration  of  the  success  of  the  Atlantic  telegraph  enterprise,  as  demonstrated  by 
the  transmission  of  the  friendly  messages  exchanged  between  Queen  Victoria  and  President 
Buchanan.  The  bell-ringing  and  cannon-firing  during  the  day  had  aroused  the  whole  people, 
and  when  night  came  the  Park  and  all  the  surrounding  places  from  which  a  view  of  the  illumi- 
nations and  fireworks  could  be  obtained,  were  crowded  densely  by  a  mass  of  delighted  spec- 


[  236  ] 


THIS  IS  ONE  OF  THE  EARLIEST  VIEWS  OF  WALL  STREET  AND  DATES 
BUT  A  FEW  YEARS  AFTER  THE  ERECTION  OF  THE  BUILDING  ITSELF 
IT  IS  PARTICULARLY  INTERESTING  BECAUSE  OF  THE  FACT  THAT  IT 
WAS  DRAWN  BEFORE  THE  PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH  WAS  ERECTED. 
AND  WHILE  TRINITY  WAS  STILL  A  VERY  INCONSEQUENTIAL  STRUC- 
TURE. THE  EAST  SIDE  OF  BROAD  STREET  WAS  STILL  VACANT.  ATA 
RECENT  SALE  THE  PRINT.  FROM  WHICH  THE  ABOVE  IS  A  COPY. 
BROUGHT  $3,000.  THE  HIGHEST  PRICE  BY  FAR  YET  REACHED  FOR 
TIEBOUT  DRAWINGS. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR.  PERCY    R.  PYNE.  2ND 


Great  Celebration  of  the  Atlantic  Cable 


tators.  About  5  o'clock,  a  salute  was  fired  from  a  small  cannon  placed  on  the  Astor  House 
by  Mr.  Stetson,  and  this  unusual  demonstration  from  a  house-top  attracted  extraordinary 
attention.  All  the  public  and  many  of  the  private  buildings  around  the  Park,  as  elsewhere 
throughout  the  city,  were  decorated  with  flags,  and  the  colors  of  all  nations  were  displayed. 
Multitudes  poured  into  the  city  by  all  the  ferries  from  Long  Island  and  Jersey  to  see  the  fire- 
works. 

At  7^2  o'clock,  the  pyrotechnic  exhibition  commenced  with  a  discharge  of  rockets.  Then 
a  balloon  was  inflated  and  ascended  amid  deafening  cheers.  At  first  it  showed  a  red  light,  then 
changed  to  green  and  paled  away  among  the  stars.  Other  balloons  were  sent  up  at  intervals, 
and  all  were  watched  with  absorbing  interest.  Fiery  serpents  rushing  through  the  air  in  the 
most  frantic  manner,  golden  showers  dropping  slowly  to  the  ground,  red  lights,  blue  lights, 
lights  of  every  hue  and  intensity  followed  one  another  in  rapid  succession,  and  dazzled  the 
eyes  of  countless  watchers.  The  top  of  the  City  Hall  was  a  fountain  of  living  fire,  for  which 
all  ordinary  powers  of  vision  were  utterly  inadequate.  One  of  the  more  elaborate  pieces — that 
on  the  west  wing — bore  the  following  inscription  in  particolored  flame : 

NEW  YORK,  NEWFOUNDLAND  AND  LONDON  TELEGRAPH  CO. 
PETER  COOPER,  PRESIDENT. 

Another — that  on  the  east  side  of  the  facade — the  following: 

ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH  CO.     WILLIAM  BROWN,  PRESIDENT. 

The  centre-piece,  which  was  the  grand  finale,  and  capped  the  climax  of  the  display,  repre- 
sented two  ships,  a  clipper  and  a  steamer;  on  the  left  a  tower,  from  which  blazed  the  stars 
and  stripes ;  on  the  right  a  similar  tower  surmounted  by  the  Union  Jack,  and  above,  the  words : 

ALL  HONOR  TO  CYRUS  W.  FIELD. 
FRANKLIN,  MORSE,  FIELD. 

American  British 
Flag.  Flag. 

AMERICAN  CLIPPER.     BRITISH  STEAMER. 

This  piece  drew  forth  thundering  cheers.  Then  a  few  more  rockets  were  let  off,  more 
blue  and  red  and  green  fires  were  lit,  the  band  played  "Hail  Columbia,"  "God  Save  the  Queen," 
and  "Patrick's  Day,"  the  lights  by  degrees  died  out,  and  at  9^2  o'clock  the  Park  was  com- 
paratively deserted. 

During  the  war  this  corner  was  the  head  centre  of  all  news  from  the  front. 
The  extension  of  lines  caused  by  the  rapid  growth  of  the  system  soon,  however, 
caused  the  company  to  erect  its  own  building,  at  Broadway  and  Dey  Street,  and 
they  were  succeeded  by  Frank  Kiernan's  newspaper  service.  A  lamp  with  a  huge 
ball  on  top  representing  the  hemisphere  was  for  a  long  time  a  feature  of  Kier- 
nan's agency,  and  is  still  remembered  by  many  of  the  brokers  on  the  street. 

The  old  building  was  finally  torn  down  and  a  new  one  erected  in  its  place. 
This  has  been  occupied  by  the  well-known  banking  firm  of  H.  B.  Hollins  &  Co. 
from  that  time  to  this. 


[  239  ] 


BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  TELEPHONE 


In  one  of  our  historic  downtown  thoroughfares  should  be  a  building  marked 
with  a  bronze  tablet  to  read  as  follows: 

81   JOHN  STREET 
ON  THIS  SITE  IN  1877   STOOD  THE  OFFICE  OF 
J.   H.  HAIGH, 
THE   FIRST   TELEPHONE   SUBSCRIBER  IN 
NEW  YORK  CITY. 
HIS   LINE,   FIVE   MILES   IN  LENGTH. 
WAS   LAID   ACROSS   THE   HALF-FINISHED   BROOKLYN  BRIDGE 

TO   HIS   STEEL  PLANT   IN   SOUTH  BROOKLYN. 
TELEPHONING   THUS   BEGAN   IN  BROOKLYN   AND  MANHATTAN 
AT   THE   SAME  INSTANT. 

So  generally  used  is  the  telephone  that  it  seems  hard  to  realize  that  scarcely 
a  generation  has  grown  up  to  whom  the  telephone  was  never  a  novelty,  but  doubt- 
less thousands  in  New  York  can  remember  its  introduction  and  the  vexatious  de- 
lays and  annoyances  which  attended  its  early  years. 

So  great  has  been  the  service  rendered  by  this  wonderful  instrument,  and  so 
accustomed  are  we  to  its  manifold  conveniences,  that  we  cheerfully  class  non- 
telephonic  days  with  the  age  of  troglodytes,  cliff  dwellers  and  other  beginnings  of 
human  civilization.   And  yet  the  telephone  is  still  less  than  thirty-six  years  old. 

Most  of  the  records  pertaining  to  its  introduction  to  New  York  were  destroyed 
in  an  accidental  fire.  There  was,  however,  little  to  set  down  at  the  beginning  ex- 
cept a  succession  of  failures.  One  after  another,  men  came  forward  and  undertook 
to  create  a  telephone  system  in  New  York,  and  one  after  one  they  were  appalled 
at  the  cost  and  immensity  of  the  work,  but  among  the  pioneers  who  actually  ac- 
complished something  were  Mr.  Charles  A.  Cheever  and  Mr.  Hilborne  L.  Roose- 
velt. They  started  a  company  with  the  stupendous  capital  of  $30,000.  On  the 
morning  of  August  5th,  1877,  the  New  York  Sun  contained  an  account  of  five  tele- 
phones in  practical  working  order  in  New  York  City.  They  were : 

1.  From  Cheever's  office  to  the  Champion  Burglar  Alarm  Co.,  704 
Broadway. 

2.  From  Cheever's  office  to  the  Law  Telegraph  office,  140  Fulton  Street. 

3.  From  Cheever's  office  to  the  shop  of  S.  J.  Burrell,  on  Broad  Street,  a 
maker  of  telegraphic  supplies. 

4.  From  Cheever's  office  to  the  office  of  Dickerson  &  Beaman,  lawyers, 
Staats  Zeitung  Building. 

5.  From  J.  L.  Haigh's  office,  at  81  John  Street,  to  his  wire  plant  in  South 
Brooklyn. 

None  of  these,  except  the  last,  were  paid  lines.  To  Mr.  J.  L.  Haigh  belongs 
the  honor  of  having  been  the  first  telephone  subscriber  in  New  York  City.  His 
line,  five  miles  in  length,  was  laid  across  the  half -finished  Brooklyn  Bridge  to  his 


[  240  ] 


ONE  OF  THE  MOST  INTERESTING  PRE-REVOLUTIONARY  BUILDINGS 
STILL  STANDING  IN  OUR  CITY.  WASHINGTON  PASSED  TWO  NIGHTS 
IN  THIS  BUILDING.  ONCE  IN  1781  AND  AGAIN  IN  1783.  ROCHAM- 
BEAU  AND  OTHER  FAMOUS  GENERALS  WERE  ENTERTAINED  HERE. 
A  SHORT  DISTANCE  FROM  THE  HOUSE  IS  THE  FAMILY  VAULT.  IN 
WHICH  THE  RECORDS  OF  THE  CITY  WERE  HIDDEN  DURING  THE 
REVOLUTION  BY  AUGUSTUS  VAN  COURTLANDT.  THEN  CITY  CLERK. 
AND  THUS  SAVED  TO  THE  CITY.  VAN  COURTLANDT  PARK  IS 
FORMED  OF  PART  OF  THE  OLD  MANOR. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION    CF  KR.  J.  H  JORCAN. 


Opening  of  the  First  Telephone  Exchange 


steel  plant  in  South  Brooklyn;  the  honor  was  therefore  equally  divided,  as  tele- 
phoning began  in  Brooklyn  and  Manhattan  at  the  same  instant. 

Cheever  and  Roosevelt  did  much  to  stimulate  public  interest  in  the  telephone. 
They  lost  no  opportunity  of  bringing  it  to  the  attention  of  business  men,  and  during 
the  American  Institute  Exhibition  of  1877  they  made  the  telephone  the  star 
feature,  and  won  the  "Medal  of  Progress."  As  many  as  twenty-five  hundred  peo- 
ple per  day  used  the  five  telephone  booths  that  were  set  in  this  exhibition,  but  even 
at  that,  few  people  were  willing  to  consider  the  new  instrument  as  a  valuable  and 
practical  discovery. 

Both  Cheever  and  Roosevelt  were  exceptionally  able  men  and  of  unquestion- 
able resourcefulness,  yet  it  is  quite  apparent  from  subsequent  development  that 
they  had  undertaken  a  task  entirely  beyond  their  power  to  accomplish.  In  a 
few  months  practically  all  their  capital  was  spent.  The  Western  Union,  too,  had 
suddenly  changed  its  policy  of  indifference  and  declared  war  against  the  Bell  Tele- 
phone Company.  It  was  then  one  of  the  richest  and  most  powerful  corporations 
in  the  city,  and  this  development  was  thoroughly  disheartening,  but  to  their  last- 
ing credit  it  must  be  put  on  record  that  Cheever  and  Roosevelt  did  not  surrender, 
but  put  up  as  pretty  a  fight  as  New  York  had  ever  witnessed.  The  odds,  however, 
were  against  the  possibility  of  successful  contention,  and  it  soon  became  apparent 
that  a  larger  and  more  powerful  company  must  be  formed  to  protect  the  tele- 
phone's interests.  In  this  desperate  plight,  the  home  company  of  Boston 
despatched  Theodore  N.  Vail  to  the  scene  of  action. 

Mr.  Vail  took  hold  of  the  situation  with  remarkable  vigor.  His  first  step  was 
to  buy  out  Cheever  and  Roosevelt  and  to  reorganize  the  company  on  a  larger  and 
sounder  financial  basis.  Among  those  who  came  to  his  aid  were  Thomas  J.  Brady, 
of  Washington,  Second  Assistant  Postmaster  General;  Henry  G.  Pearson  and  R. 
C.  Jackson,  both  of  the  New  York  Post  Office ;  William  H.  Wolverton  and  Amzi 
S.  Dod,  of  the  New  York  Transfer  Company;  Edwin  Holmes,  the  head  of  a  bur- 
glar alarm  system;  John  D.  Harrison,  a  relative  of  Vail's,  and  lastly,  Vail  himself. 

Mr.  Holmes  was  elected  the  first  president  in  1878,  and  Mr.  Vail  was  his  suc- 
cessor in  1879.  The  new  company  had  $100,000  capital  stock,  of  which  $60,000 
was  paid  in  cash  by  the  above  shareholders.  The  first  regular  telephone  exchange 
was  opened  at  62  Nassau  Street  in  March  of  1879,  and  the  second  at  97  Spring 
Street  several  months  later.  These  early  years — from  1877  to  1880 — comprised  a 
very  trying  period.  It  seemed  utterly  impossible  to  have  the  public  consider  the 
new  invention  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  a  fantastic  toy.  When  Judge  Hilton 
was  asked  if  a  telephone  might  be  put  in  A.  T.  Stewart's  store,  he  said,  "You  can 
put  it  in  as  an  advertisement,  but  we  will  not  pay  for  it."  To  show  how  little  it 
was  regarded  by  outside  houses,  Mr.  Vail  at  one  time  sent  a  small  order  to  the  store 
of  L.  G.  Tillotson  at  15  Dey  Street,  for  some  supplies  in  the  fall  of  1872.  The 
clerk  sent  back  word  that  the  goods  were  ready,  and  also  the  bill,  $7.00.  On  the 
spot  where  that  store  stood,  by  one  of  those  fantastic  whirligigs  of  fortune,  there 
is  to-day  the  towering  office  building  of  the  New  York  Telephone  Companj^,  with 
its  millions  upon  millions  of  capital. 


[  243] 


First  Telephone  Directory  and  Advertisement 


 ,  

AlEERIGAIf. 


NATIONAL  INDUSTRIES. 


Of  these  pioneers, 
none  are  now  left  ex- 
cept Mr.  Vail  and  Mr. 
Wolverton.  The  latter 
is  still  active  head  of 
the  New  York  Trans- 
fer Company  and  re- 
tains his  seat  among 
the  directors  of  the 
New  York  Telephone 
Company.  Mr.  Vail  is 
too  well  known  to  need 
any  further  allusion, 
but  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  largely  ow- 
ing to  his  remarkable 
executive  ability,  his 
untiring  patience  and 
his  indomitable  courage 
the  telephone  in  New 
York  is  what  it  is  to- 
day. He  has  been  ably 
assisted  by  Mr.  Union 
N.  Bethel,  whose  intro- 
duction of  the  sliding 
scale  of  rates  brought 
the  cost  within  the 
reach  of  all  and  im- 
mensely popularized 
the  use  of  the  tele- 
phone, by  Mr.  J.  F. 
McCarthy  in  the  plant 
department,  and  Mr. 
Frank  H.  Bethel. 

On    this    page  we 
show  a  reproduction  of 
the  entire  first  direc- 
tory issued  by  the  Tele- 
phone  Company  and 
the  first  advertisement. 
Remarkable  as  the  history  of  this  old  city  is  during 
the  last  fifty  years,  it  is  very  nearly  paralleled  by  the 
stupendous  and  gigantic  growth  of  the  telephone  business 
within  its  boundaries  in  less  than  a  third  of  a  century. 

[  244  ] 


Single  Admission,  50  csnta. 

OhlUlrt»zi  unties  'Xttn  Y#?or«  '.: *  ■  <  .nt«, 
FAMILY  OB  COUPON  TICK.ST8 

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«•)•■  '•  ii»ully  from  it  A.  fl.  Mi  in  W.  PI. 

^MAMMOTH  STRUCTURED 

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3d  &  3d  Avos.  &  «3d  &  64th  Sts. 

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j-jtoa  AVENUE  7v  .«vkml. 

SUPERB '  FOUNTAIN 

PpVdrfel  Engines  of  Superb  Finish 
Eristir^  A  Air  Csmpassiag  .Sdacfclneryl 

OREAT   S'tfH  AMD  VAJT^M_pi**BPe. 

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s?"c;.A3c  ssek'vv'iVo  Ajto  emucow  hawiksb  r. 
\V<n>'t  Workii.fi  M  'tt-hincry  ! 

Ct,*swt  r\T  Csrr tr-J  ^tup'tii-  *Vuod. 

A  Scmi/lata  Printing  /Jstablishneut  t  • 

JSvi-n  o|H-'nllou  tc^.r.i         *i  '.ilr.  Utibt         iir'fttu;|E  ttc 
Th"  WoOdcirtftll  v*po*ttlm*, 

Vjk!i«re  wfH  1)3  Ff*-  t.CAl'V  "lent  tide  '.;*»»•*  vdc 

Ajl-mf^riiig  Ii.vtjtkp. 

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6*1Tf.  to       1  •  ;\rv.'  Wv:wi*  BY  T'tnVTI. 

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•  -   AE,»Jw-i'»;ur.-.vi>.r..  t>/4rf  rwfrwu-  J_ 

!  iifrgipcrb  Bronzes  r-c-I  &as  JtettiTC?  ! 
t.lfejiVaits,  Ho^^s._  Plants,  _Kts.v 

^"Agricultural  Dcpartme^; 
.  ,u^ii-.ow, -wgHE**""-' " "' " ;" 


••The 


FIRST  ADVERTISEMENT  OF  THE  TELEPHONE 


LIST  OF  SUBSCRIBERS 

(IIWltBHl)llM 

BELL  TELEPSOJE  QDDAIT  Of  EW  TOM. 


Li  unm  ia  mum 


■lUOtl)  mi  cbmk  ■ 


s^cvf     =£=r~        H^^.V  s 

SrivfV'"  ?£*?5^  B 


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ax-  r£— 


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hat: 


15. 

KB. 

ruu  mjMiux  nua  tw. 


run  m  lunu  nr 
run  rurwn 


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Mr  m 
us'"'  i&r« 

SSI." 

m.  m 


r.-.ss- 

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am  <un  nr. 

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Kit  I'.nitn 


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•S  


Unum  S»quarp  in  1850 


THE  OLD  ROBERT  GOELET  HOUSE.  NORTHWEST  CORNER  OF  BROAD- 
WAY AND  17th  STREET  THIS  WAS  ABOUT  THE  TIME  THAT  THE 
"SQUARE"  ENJOYED  REMARKABLE  SOCIAL  DISTINCTION  AND  WAS 
ONE  OF  THE  SHOW  PLACES  IN  TOWN 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  ROBERT  GOELET. 


BEGINNINGS  OF  ELECTRIC  LIGHT 


Early  in  1879  there  appeared  in  the  New  York  Tribune  an  interview  with 
Mr.  Edison  from  which  the  following  is  taken.  It  is  particularly  interesting  in 
view  of  subsequent  events.  We  follow  it  with  the  successful  operation- of  the  inven- 
tion three  years  later. 

"I  have  let  the  other  inventors  get  the  start  of  me  in  this  matter,  somewhat,  because  I  have 
not  given  much  attention  to  electric  lights ;  but  I  believe  I  can  catch  up  with  them  now.  I  have 
an  idea  that  I  can  make  the  electric  light  available  for  all  common  uses,  and  supply  it  at  a 
trifling  cost  compared  with  that  of  gas.  There  is  no  difficulty  about  dividing  up  the  electric 
currents  and  using  small  quantities  at  different  points.  The  trouble  is  in  finding  a  candle  that 
will  give  a  pleasant  light,  not  too  intense,  which  can  be  turned  on  or  off  as  easily  as  gas. 
Such  a  candle  cannot  be  made  from  carbon  points,  which  waste  away  and  must  be  readjusted 
constantly  while  they  do  last.  A  platinum  wire  gives  a  good  light  when  a  certain  quantity  of 
electricity  is  passed  through  it.  If  the  current  is  made  too  strong,  however,  the  wire  will  melt. 
I  want  to  get  something  better.  Now  that  I  have  a  machine  to  make  the  electricity,  I  can 
experiment  as  much  as  I  please;  I  think,"  he  added,  smiling,  "there  is  where  I  can  beat  the 
other  inventors,  as  I  have  so  many  facilities  here  for  trying  experiments." 

"If  you  can  make  the  electric  light  supply  the  place  of  gas,  you  can  easily  make  a  great 
fortune,"  the  reporter  suggested. 

"I  don't  care  so  much  for  a  fortune,"  Mr.  Edison  replied. 

Three  years  seems  an  incredibly  short  time  in  which  to  perfect  this  invention, 
yet  nevertheless  Mr.  Edison  accomplished  it.  There  are  still  among  us  countless 
thousands  who  clearly  recall  the  infant  days  of  this  illuminant  and  of  the  intense  pub- 
lic interest  manifested  in  its  early  development.  It  is  only  as  short  a  time  ago  as 
September,  1882,  when  the  current  was  first  turned  on  in  the  first  Edison  central 
station  at  257  Pearl  Street. 

More  or  less  talk  had  appeared  in  the  papers  from  time  to  time  regarding  the 
new  light  and  much  of  it  was  sceptical.  The  claims  made  for  it  seemed  at  first 
beyond  all  reason — that  it  would  emit  no  smell,  practically  no  heat  and  would 
require  no  matches  to  light.  The  New  York  Times,  among  the  first  buildings 
lighted  by  electricity,  had  this  to  say  the  morning  after  the  trial: 

It  was  about  5  o'clock  yesterday  afternoon  when  the  lights  were  put  in  operation.  It  was 
then  broad  daylight,  and  the  light  looked  dim.  It  was  not  until  about  7  o'clock,  when  it  began 
to  grow  dark,  that  the  electric  light  really  made  itself  known  and  showed  how  bright  and  steady 
it  is.  Then  the  27  electric  lamps  in  the  editorial  rooms  and  the  25  lamps  in  the  counting- 
rooms  made  those  departments  as  bright  as  day,  but  without  any  unpleasant  glare.  It  was  a 
light  that  a  man  could  sit  down  under  and  write  for  hours  without  the  consciousness  of  having 
any  artificial  light  about  him.  There  was  a  very  slight  amount  of  heat  from  each  lamp,  but 
not  nearly  as  much  as  from  a  gas-burner — one-fifteenth  as  much  as  from  gas,  the  inventor 
says.    The  light  was  soft,  mellow,  and  grateful  to  the  eye,  and  it  seemed  almost  like  writing 


[  247] 


First  Building  Lighted  by  Electricity 


by  daylight  to  have  a  light  without  a  particle  of  flicker  and  with  scarcely  any  heat  to  make 
the  head  ache.  The  electric  lamps  in  The  Times  Building  were  as  thoroughly  tested  last 
evening  as  any  light  could  be  tested  in  a  single  evening,  and  tested  by  men  who  have  battered 
their  eyes  sufficiently  by  years  of  night  work  to  know  the  good  and  bad  points  of  a  lamp,  and 
the  decision  was  unanimously  in  favor  of  the  Edison  electric  lamp  as  against  gas.  One  night 
is  a  brief  period  in  which  to  judge  of  the  merits  or  demerits  of  a  new  system  of  lighting,  but 
so  far  as  it  has  been  tested  in  The  Times  office  the  Edison  electric  light  has  proved  in  every 
way  satisfactory. 

The  Herald  said: 

Last  night  it  was  fairly  demonstrated  that  the  Edison  light  had  a  very  fair  degree  of 

success. 

The  Sun  gave  a  characteristic  sketch  of  the  inventor  at  work  and  also  touches 
on  a  curious  experience  encountered  by  the  workmen  in  their  early  days: 

Mr.  Edison  wore  a  white,  high-crowned  derby  hat  and  collarless  shirt.  "I  have  accom- 
plished all  I  promised,"  he  said.  "...  We  have  a  greater  demand  for  light  than  we  can  supply 
at  present.  We  have  to  educate  men  to  the  use  and  management  of  our  machinery.  We  have 
only  one  experienced  engineer  here  now.  A  man  came  down  from  our  machine-shop  in  Goerck 
Street  the  other  day  and  put  his  oil  can  between  two  conductors.  He  was  a  badly  frightened 
man  a  second  later,  for  the  can  melted  away  as  quickly  as  the  oil  it  contained.  Another  work- 
man, while  employed  at  a  wire  in  Fulton  Street,  used  a  screw-driver.  He  was  surprised  to  see 
his  screw-driver  burn  away,  and  returned  to  the  station  in  great  haste  to  know  what  was 
the  matter." 

Those  present  on  this  momentous  occasion  were,  as  near  as  can  be  ascertained,  besides  Mr. 
Edison  himself:  Mr.  E.  H.  Johnson;  Mr.  Charles  L.  Clarke,  the  engineer  of  the  Edison  Electric 
Illuminating  Company ;  Dr.  S.  S.  Wheeler;  Mr.  Charles  S.  Bradley;  Mr.  Samuel  Insull;  Mr. 
J.  W.  Lieb,  Jr. ;  Mr.  Francis  Jehl ;  Mr.  Charles  Batchelor ;  Mr.  Calvin  Goddard ;  Mr.  W.  H. 
Meadowcroft ;  Mr.  Julius  Hornig,  engineer  in  local  charge  of  the  station  construction,  and  his 
assistant,  Mr.  H.  M.  Byllesby ;  Mr.  W.  A.  Anderson,  of  the  Board  of  Fire  Underwriters ;  Mr. 
Charles  Dean,  of  the  Goerck  Street  shops;  Mr.  Wetzler,  of  the  Electrical  World;  Mr.  John 
Kruesi;  Mr.  S.  Bergmann;  Mr.  H.  A.  Campbell ;  Mr.  F.  R.  Upton ;  Mr.  John  Langton,  who 
worked  with  Kruesi;  and  Mr.  "Jack"  Hood,  the  old  Scotch  engineer  from  Mcnlo  Park. 

A  little  later  in  the  same  afternoon,  Edison  joined  Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan  at  the  hitter's 
office.    Mr.  E.  H.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Charles  S.  Bradley  were  there  also. 

This  was  the  introduction  of  the  Electric  Light  in  New  York  and  the  begin- 
ning of  the  present  marvellous  Edison  Service  with  its  tremendous  water  front 
buildings,  its  numerous  sub-stations  and  private  plants. 

Many  persons  claim  to  have  been  present  on  this  historic  occasion,  but  the  above 
list  may  be  accepted  as  correct.  As  for  the  stores  and  offices  first  lighted,  they  can 
no  longer  be  recorded,  but  it  included  most  of  the  principal  stores  in  Fulton  Street 
from  Nassau  Street  to  the  East  River,  although  Drexel,  Morgan  &  Co.'s  new  build- 
ing (then  one  of  the  show  places  in  town),  as  well  as  the  Times  and  Herald,  were 
specially  equipped  for  that  opening  night. 


[  248  ] 


42ni  S»tr*rt  anil  fHaiitsmt  Anrttup,  18*54 


A  VERY  UNUSUAL  PHOTOGRAPH.  SHOWING  DR.  TYNGS  ORIGINAL 
CHAPEL.  WHICH  AFTERWARDS  DEVELOPED  INTO  THE  'CHECKER- 
BOARD "  CHURCH.  THE  NEW  YORK  CENTRAL  STATION  WAS  STILL 
DOWNTOWN.  CORNER  WEST  BROADWAY  AND  CHAMBERS  STREET. 
AND  THE  HARLEM  DEPOT  AT  CENTRE  AND  CHAMBERS  STREET  AN 
OLD  WOOD-BURNING  LOCOMOTIVE  IS  SHOWN  AT  ABOUT  WHERE  THE 
PRESENT  TERMINAL  NOW  IS.  THE  ROCKS  AT  LEFT  ARE  WHERE 
THE  MANHATTAN  HOTEL  NOW  STANDS.  AND  THE  PILE  OF  RUBBISH 
AT  THE  RIGHT  IS  WHERE  THE  42nd  STREET  BUILDING  NOW  IS  THE 
NEW  MUNICIPAL  BUILDING  NOW  OCCUPIES  THE  SITE  OF  THE  OLD 
HARLEM  DEPOT  BY  A  SINGULAR  COINCIDENCE  IT  STILL  RETAINS 
ITS  ORIGINAL  FUNCTION  AS  A  TERMINAL.  THE  NEW  BROOKLYN 
LOOP.  FIVE  PLATFORMS  DEEP  AND  435  FEET  LONG.  BEING  LOCATED 
HERE. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION   OF   MR    JOHN    N  GOLDING 


BEGINNINGS  OF  ELECTRIC  POWER 


Early  in  1879  the  New  York  Tribune  contained  an  account  of  a  visit  to 
the  laboratory  of  Mr.  Edison.  It  had  been  rumored  that  Mr.  Edison  was  at  work 
on  an  idea  whereby  electricity  could  be  utilized  for  power.  Among  the  things 
which  were  claimed  for  the  new  invention  was  the  ability  to  harness  the  Falls  of 
Niagara  and  other  natural  forces  and  derive  current  from  them  by  which  it  would 
be  possible  to  supply  power  by  means  of  electricity  to  parts  not  only  close  at  hand 
but  at  distant  points  as  well. 

Although  this  in  the  popular  mind  was  simply  the  raving  of  a  disordered  in- 
tellect, it  was  known  in  better  informed  circles  that  scientific  men  were  not  so  scep- 
tical. The  new  machine  which  was  to  accomplish  such  wonders  was  a  magneto- 
electric  machine  and  the  interview  thus  continues : 

"There  is  no  reason,"  Mr.  Edison  said,  "why  the  natural  power  in  rivers  and  waterfalls, 
near  large  cities,  may  not  be  used  in  place  of  steam,  through  these  magneto-electric  machines. 
Conducting  rods,  used  to  carry  the  electricity  long  distances,  can  be  tapped  at  any  given  point 
and  any  desired  amount  of  the  electricity  taken  off.  It  will  be  necessary  only  to  place  a  suit- 
able resistance  in  the  local  wire.  The  cost  of  getting  motive  power  in  this  way  will  be  much 
less  than  the  cost  of  steam  power.  In  the  mining  regions,  where  water  power  is  usually  abun- 
dant, conducting  rods  can  be  run  into  the  deepest  mines,  and  electricity  can  be  used,  in  place 
of  compressed  air,  to  work  the  diamond  drills.  Not  only  that,  but  the  magneto-electric 
machines  can  be  used  in  taking  the  metals  from  the  ores. 

The  entire  article  is  interesting  merely  as  foreshadowing  the  great  develop- 
ments in  electrical  power  which  were  so  soon  to  follow.  The  great  General 
Electric  Company  was  as  yet  unthought  of  and  interviews  like  the  above  were 
printed  more  for  the  entertainment  of  readers  than  with  any  serious  purpose. 

Three  years  later  the  first  of  Edison's  dreams  came  true  in  the  practical  per- 
fection of  the  electric  light,  and  it  was  not  long  after  that  that  electric  power 
followed. 


[251] 


MOVING  PICTURES 


Greatest  of  all  of  Mr.  Edison's  inventions  was  also  approaching  fruition,  but 
at  so  late  a  date  that  it  is  hardly  entitled  to  be  classed  as  "old." 

In  1893  The  Century  Magazine  gave  to  the  world  the  first  authentic  account  of 
the  then  state  of  the  art  together  with  three  pages  of  illustrations  showing  the  pres- 
ent well-known  reel,  with  its  numerous  small  pictures,  each  one  recording  just  the 
slightest  variation  in  the  poses. 

According  to  a  preface  written  by  Mr.  Edison  himself  and  reproduced  fac- 
simile, Mr.  Edison  evidently  regarded  his  invention  incomplete  without  sound. 
His  idea  was,  apparently,  that  the  images  must  also  talk,  and  he  called  the  invention 
the  Kinetophone.  Apparently  the  now  widely  popular  Moving  Picture  shows  as 
well  as  the  Phonograph  were  originally  designed  to  work  together. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  public  adopted  them  as  two  separate  inventions,  each  one 
independent  of  the  other,  and  each  in  its  line  has  proved  a  tremendous  success,  both 
commercially  and  artistically.  It  is  a  singular  coincidence  that  only  this  year 
(1913)  has  the  original  idea  finally  been  perfected  and  the  public  greeted  the  new- 
comer with  all  the  honors  and  emoluments  due  to  a  new  discovery.  But  it  is  quite 
clear  from  the  Century's  article  that  what  was  then  in  Mr.  Edison's  mind  was 
wholly  different  from  what  subsequently  developed  in  the  natural  course  of  events. 

A  recent  account  states  that  more  than  50  millions  of  dollars  are  now  invested 
in  this  industry  and  that  a  daily  attendance  of  6  to  10  millions  is  a  fair  estimate  of 
the  popularity  of  the  "movies." 

What  the  next  twenty  years  will  do  for  this  invention  time  alone  can  tell. 
It  seems  to  be  improving  every  minute,  and  more  important  plays  are  now  seen  in 
the  "movies"  than  were  even  contemplated  a  short  time  ago. 

No  invention  of  the  nineteenth  century  seems  so  pregnant  with  possibilities 
for  the  human  race  as  this,  which  at  first  seemed  so  tremendously  trifling.  It  will 
probably  play  a  large  part  in  the  future  work  of  the  public  schools,  and  science 
should  make  quicker  and  more  accurate  progress  in  the  next  few  years  by  this  agency 
alone  than  it  has  for  a  century. 


[  252  ] 


Nrut  tjiirh  (Hputral  Hrput.  lBBU 


CORNER  WEST  BROADWAY  AND  CHAMBERS  STREET  CARS  WERE 
DRAWN  BY  HORSES  FROM  30th  STREET,  THE  TERMINAL  OF  THE 
STEAM  ROAD  A  VERY  GOOD  VIEW  OF  THE  PLAZA  AT  THIS  SECTION 
OF  THE  CITY.  SHOWING  RIDLEY  &  CO  S.  THE  FAMOUS  "  BROKEN 
CANDY  FIRM  WHERE  RIDLEY  ft  CO  WAS,  STOOD  THE  IRVING 
NATIONAL  BANK  TILL  IT  MOVED  TO  THE  WOOLWORTH  BUILDING, 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR.  WHITNEY  WAWNEN 


BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH 


While  we  are  on  the  subject  of  Mr.  Edison's  inventions  as  they  began  to 
develop  in  New  York,  we  append  an  item  from  the  Sun  of  1886: 

MR.  BEECHER  AND  THE  PHONOGRAPH 

In  the  house  of  Thomas  A.  Edison  is  a  remarkable  memento  of  the  late  Mr.  Beecher. 
The  inventor's  phonograph  for  impressing  on  a  soft  metal  sheet  the  utterances  of  the  human 
voice,  and  then  emitting  it  again  by  the  turning  of  a  crank,  has  never  been  put  to  any  very 
valuable  use,  and  Edison  has  only  gained  from  it  a  few  thousand  dollars  in  royalties  from  exhi- 
bitors. But  he  utilized  it  to  make  a  collection  of  famous  voices.  Since  he  became  famous,  his 
visitors  have  included  hundreds  of  celebrities.  Instead  of  asking  them  for  their  autographs 
or  photographs,  he  has,  in  two  or  three  hundred  instances,  requested  them  to  speak  a  few  sen- 
tences into  a  phonograph.  He  has  kept  the  plates  in  a  cabinet,  and  occasionally  he  runs 
some  of  them  through  the  machine,  which  sends  out  the  words  exactly  as  uttered.  Edison  is 
probably  the  only  man  who  can  revive  the  silenced  voice  of  the  great  preacher. 

While  the  Sun's  statement  concerning  the  phonograph  is  literally  true,  a  talk- 
ing machine  of  commercial  value  was  subsequently  perfected,  to  which  Alexander 
Graham  Bell,  Chichester  A.  Bell,  Charles  Sumner  Tainter  and  Emil  Berliner  con- 
tributed largely.  Mr.  Thomas  Macdonald,  Clinton  E.  Woods,  Joseph  W.  Jones — 
later  inventor  of  the  well-known  speedometer — and  others  might  justly  be  also  in- 
cluded. 

To  the  millions  of  our  citizens  not  only  in  New  York  but  throughout  the  world 
who  have  since  listened  with  delight  to  the  greatest  popular  songs,  the  greatest 
operas  and  the  most  wonderful  orchestral  effects,  the  above  modest  reference  to 
the  birth  of  what  is  one  of  the  greatest  inventions  in  which  Mr.  Edison  played  a 
prominent  part  will  no  doubt  possess  great  interest. 

To  the  Victor  Talking  Machine  Co.,  the  Columbia  Graphopone  Co.,  and  the 
thousands  of  dealers  throughout  the  country  who  are  making  money  out  of  the 
perfected  talking  machines,  the  statement  that  the  invention  "has  never  been  put 
to  any  very  valuable  use"  must  come  as  a  distinct  jar  and  make  them  realize  that 
we  truly  are  living  in  an  age  of  marvels. 


[  255  ] 


* 


FAMOUS  THOROUGHFARES  IN  NEW  YORK 


BROADWAY:  THE  GREATEST  STREET  IN  THE  WORLD 

A  Quaintly  Interesting  Sketch  of  it  in  1846  and  the  Broadway  of  To-day 

Any  account  of  Broadway  (De  Heere  Straat  of  the  Dutch)  is  always  inter- 
esting. The  following  from  a  private  letter  written  in  '46  gives  an  intimate 
personal  glimpse  of  the  main  street  in  the  young  city  at  that  time,  and  gives  a 
wealth  of  detail  regarding  the  various  stores,  residences,  theatres,  churches,  etc. : 

On  the  first  settlement  of  the  island,  the  ground  now  occupied  by  Broadway  formed,  as 
far  up  as  Maiden  Lane,  the  high  bank  of  the  Hudson  River.  There  was,  from  the  point  now 
about  the  Astor  House  direct  to  the  Battery,  a  well-worn  Indian  trail.  The  ground  from 
the  Battery  rose  gradually  and  pretty  steeply  as  far  as  the  head  of  Wall  Street,  just  below 
which  was  the  point  called  by  the  Dutch  Flatten-Barrack  Hill,  and  Golden  Hill  by  the  Eng- 
lish. This  was  a  sort  of  promontory,  the  sides  descending  precipitously  on  the  west,  reach- 
ing the  river's  edge  some  feet  east  of  Lumber  Street  (Trinity  Place),  and  on  the  east 
descending  as  abruptly  to  the  swamp  and  tide  canal,  now  occupied  by  Broad  Street. 

The  aborigines  had  used  this  elevation  of  land  as  a  watch  tower,  from  which  they  could 
overlook  the  island  as  far  up  as  the  little  mountain  near  Broadway  and  Houston  Street,  and 
the  high  ridge  of  prairie  grass  known  to  our  Dutch  ancestors  as  the  Boueries  (grass  farms) 
and  to  us  as  the  Bowery.  Eastward  the  pile  of  rocks  where  St.  George's  Church  now  stands 
(called  the  "cliffs,"  from  which  Cliff  Street)  alone  obstructed  a  full  view  of  Long  Island,  from 
Bushwick  Inlet  to  Yellow  Hook  on  the  south.  Westward  their  field  of  vision  was  bounded  by 
Weehawken,  Bergen  Neck,  and  Staten  Island. 

The  end  of  the  Indian  trail  and  the  foot  proper  of  Broadway  was  opposite  Castle  Gar- 
den, near  the  centre  of  the  Battery.  Here  was  a  broad  eddy  formed  by  the  back  water  from 
the  two  rivers ;  this  water  was  called  by  the  Indians  "Kapsee,"  meaning  a  safe  landing  in 
still  water,  and  for  many  years  the  Dutch  called  the  place  Copsee's  Point.  In  those  days  it 
is  pretty  clearly  shown  that  Buttermilk  Channel  was  nearly  dry,  thus  throwing  the  whole 
current  of  the  East  River  north  of  Governor's  Island.  The  later  division  of  this  current  and 
consequent  change  of  the  North  River  has  annihilated  almost  every  vestige  of  Kapsee  eddy. 

The  old  fort  of  New  Amsterdam  (afterwards  called  Fort  George),  a  strong  quadrangu- 
lar fortification,  with  heavy  bastions,  fronting  by  compass,  North,  East,  South  and  West, 
stood  in  the  very  mouth  of  Broadway.  The  North  and  only  gate  opening  into  this  street  led 
to  this  Indian  trail.  The  North  wall  of  the  fort  was  on  a  line  with  Petticoat  Lane  (Market- 
field  Street),  and  the  South  wall  formed  one  side  of  Pearl  Street.  The  triangular  field  before 
the  fort,  afterwards  occupied  by  the  leaden  statue  of  King  George  and  now  by  the  Whitney 
Block  and  Bowling  Green,  was  the  parade  ground  of  Lord  Lovelace  and  Earl  Bellamont. 
At  a  later  period  a  redoubt  was  thrown  up  outside  the  fort,  along  the  water,  on  which  some 
ninety  guns  were  mounted,  for  the  better  security  of  the  harbor.  This  place  was  called  the 
Battery,  and  yet  retains  the  name,  and  always  will.  In  the  Battery  was  a  very  large  boulder 
rock,  called  Abie  by  the  Indians. 


[  256] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H.  C.  BROWN 


A  ijarlrm  ©rain  in  IB  50 


THE  TERMINAL  OF  THE  HARLEM  RAILROAD  WAS  THEN  AT  26th 
STREET  AND  FOURTH  AVENUE.  WHERE  MADISON  SQUARE  GARDEN 
NOW  IS.  THE  REST  OF  THE  JOURNEY  DOWNTOWN  TO  THE  OLD  DEPOT 
AT  CENTRE  AND  CHAMBERS  STREETS  WAS  MADE  BY  HORSES  FOR 
SIX  CENTS  EXTRA.  OUR  VIEW  SHOWS  A  CAR  PASSING  THE  OLD 
TOMBS  ON  A  WINTRY  DAY.  TWELVE  HORSES  WERE  NOT  AN 
UNUSUAL  NUMBER  REQUIRED  FOR  THE  WORK. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR    P    V.  B.  LOCKWOOD 


The  Pleasantest  Street  in  Town 


From  the  Park,  the  Indian  path  went  eastward  across  the  Klocht,  via  Chatham  Street  and 
Division,  to  Natonk  or  Sandy  Point,  now  Corlears  Hook.  Another  branch  ran  near  the  line 
of  the  Bowery  to  Bloomingdale. 

After  the  fort,  the  governor's  residence  was  the  first  feature  of  note  in  Broadway.  This 
was  a  large  building  north  of  the  fort,  near  the  present  Broadway  gate  of  the  Battery, 
and  fronted  toward  the  water.  This  was  the  first  place  the  English  governors  occupied  out- 
side the  fort,  having  previously  dwelt  within  the  walls.  At  the  south  end  of  the  fort,  ad- 
joining the  armory,  was  the  King's  Chapel,  built  in  1694,  and  burnt  in  the  negro  rebellion 
of  1741. 

Trinity  Church  was  built  on  its  present  site  in  1696  and  enlarged  in  1737.  William 
Smith  (1750)  says:  "It  stands  very  pleasantly  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  River,  and  has  a 
large  cemetery  upon  each  side  inclosed  in  the  front  by  a  painted  paled  fence.  Before  it  a 
long  walk  is  railed  off  from  the  Broadway,  the  pleasantest  street  of  any  in  the  whole  town. 
This  building  is  about  148  feet  long,  including  the  tower  and  the  chancel,  and  72  feet  in 
breadth.  The  steeple  is  175  feet  high;  and  over  the  door,  facing  the  river,  is  the  following 
inscription : 

"  'Per  Angustam,  Hoc  Trinitatis  Templum  fundatum  est  Anno  Regni  illustrissimi, 
Supremi,  Domini  Gulielmi  Tertii,  Dei  Gratia  Angliae,  Scotias,  Franciae  et  Hiberniae  Regis, 
Fidei  Defensoris,  &c.  Octavo,  Annoq;  Domino,  1696.' 

"The  church  is  within  ornamented  beyond  any  other  place  of  public  worship  among  us. 
The  head  of  the  church  is  adorned  with  an  altar-piece,  and  opposite  to  it  at  the  other  end 
of  the  building  is  the  organ.  The  tops  of  the  pillars  which  support  the  galleries  are  decked 
with  the  gilt  busts  of  angels  winged.  From  the  ceiling  are  suspended  two  glass  branches, 
and  on  the  walls  hang  the  arms  of  some  of  its  principal  benefactors.  The  alleys  are  paved 
with  flat  stones.  The  Rector  is  Rev.  Henry  Barclay.  Salary  £100  a  year,  levied  on  all  the 
other  clergy  and  laity  in  the  city,  by  virtue  of  an  act  of  Assembly  procured  by  Governor 
Fletcher." 

The  first  public  worship  in  this  church  was  on  the  6th  of  February,  1697.  On  the  21st 
of  September,  1776,  by  the  memorable  great  fire,  Trinity  was  entirely  destroyed.  After  the 
Revolution  it  was  rebuilt,  and  consecrated  in  1790  by  Bishop  Provoost.  In  1839  the  building 
was  examined,  found  unsafe,  and  immediately  taken  down. 

In  1695,  at  the  corner  of  Wall  Street  and  Broadway,  was  one  of  the  stone  points  or 
bastions  for  the  defense  of  the  city.  In  Broadway  were  the  public  cisterns,  one  near  St. 
George's  Hotel,  and  the  other  below  the  corner  of  Exchange  Place,  for  use  in  case  of  fire. 

About  1790  the  City  Hotel  (now  standing)  was  erected.  This  is  one  of  the  most  sub- 
stantial brick  buildings  ever  put  up.  It  is  101  feet  front,  133  feet  deep,  five  stories  high,  and 
contains  132  rooms.  It  is  owned  by  John  Jacob  Astor,  and  conducted  by  Chester  Jennings. 
It  is  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  between  Cedar  (little  Queen)  and  Thames  (Stone) 
Streets.  It  was  one  of  the  first  buildings  in  the  city  covered  with  slate;  and  when  ready 
for  roofing  they  found  that  no  nails  had  been  provided.  Search  was  made  for  a  man  to  sup- 
ply this  deficiency,  and  the  only  one  found  in  the  city  who  could  make  slate  nails  was  our 
own  well-known  old  inhabitant,  Grant  Thorburn,  then  a  newly  arrived,  adventurous  Scotch 
nail-maker.  He  was  honored,  and  profited  by  the  job.  Some  twenty-five  years  after  the 
roof  was  prepared,  Mr.  T.  clambered  up  the  adder  and  gathered  some  of  his  nails,  which 
he  still  keeps  as  a  memento  of  early  days  at  his  store,  corner  of  Broadway  and  Prince  Street. 

In  1685  Governor  Dongan  had  a  splendid  garden  on  Broadway,  between  (the  present) 
Howard's  Hotel  and  the  American  Museum,  Maiden  Lane  and  Ann  Street.    This  was  the 


[  259  ] 


Public  and  Private  Gardens 


ultima  thule  of  civilization.  Opposite  was  King's  Farm,  very  little  improved.  In  the  pres- 
ent Cortlandt  Street,  at  that  time,  was  a  large  windmill,  from  which  that  street  was  first 
called  Old  Windmill  Lane.  (This  lane  ran  into  Cortlandt  Street,  only  from  the  river,  a 
little  above  Greenwich,  and  then  through  the  present  block,  between  Cortlandt  and  Liberty, 
to  Broadway.) 

In  1728  Broadway  had  grown  as  far  as  the  Park.  From  the  present  corner  of  Barclay 
Street,  to  about  Reade  Street,  was  a  long  rope  walk,  exactly  on  the  site  of  the  street.  All 
north  of  Broadway  was  King's  Farm,  most  of  which,  not  long  after,  was  willed  to  Trinity 
Church,  and  was  the  small  beginning  of  their  enormous  wealth. 

Before  the  Revolution  Broadway  had  surmounted  the  steep  hill  near  the  junction  of 
Pearl,  and  gone  down  the  slope  to  the  marshes,  now  Canal  Street.  The  Hospital  was  built 
on  the  great  square  formed  by  Broadway,  Barley  (Duane),  Church  and  Catharine  (An- 
thony) Streets.  In  1775  it  was  burned,  and  during  the  war  the  ruins  were  occupied  by 
the  Hessian  troops  for  barracks.  In  1783  it  was  rebuilt  and  first  opened  as  a  public  in- 
firmary in  1791.  On  the  14th  of  March,  1806,  an  act  was  passed,  giving  this  Hospital  a 
State  annuity  of  $12,500  for  fifty  years.  The  "Picture  of  New  York"  (1805)  says  the  view 
from  the  cupola  of  the  Hospital  was  the  best  in  the  city.  One  could  see  all  the  Bay  and 
Narrows,  and  toward  the  north,  the  city  extending  toward  Greenwich  and  Rose  Hill,  with 
many  beautiful  villas  rising  between. 

In  these  days,  Oswego  Market  was  on  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Maiden  Lane.  The 
Park  was  said  to  "consist  of  about  four  acres  planted  with  elms,  planes,  willows  and 
catalpas." 

There  was  a  windmill  on  Broadway,  between  the  present  Liberty  and  Cortlandt  Streets, 
as  early  as  1630,  erected  by  the  Dutch  West  India  Company  for  public  use.  In  1662  this 
mill  was  taken  down  and  rebuilt  on  the  Company's  farm,  outside  the  walls  (near  the  junc- 
tion of  Warren  and  Greenwich  Streets). 

In  1676  the  ground  before  the  Fort  in  Broadway,  now  the  Bowling  Green,  was,  by 
order,  used  for  a  city  market  and  all  country  people  exposing  their  wares  for  sale  there 
were  exempt  from  arrest  for  debt. 

In  1785  Alderman  Bayard  sold  Broadway  lots  of  full  size  for  twenty-five  dollars 
apiece. 

One  remarkable  feature  in  the  appearance  of  the  Dutch  streets  is  now  entirely  oblit- 
erated.   All  their  gutters  were  in  the  middle  of  the  streets,  instead  of  the  sides. 

As  late  as  1772  Broadway  extended  no  farther  than  the  present  Hospital,  at  which 
place  was  Rutgers'  orchard.  About  that  time  the  British  had  a  range  of  barracks  upon  the 
site  of  the  old  Scudder's  Museum,  or  near  it,  and  paraded  their  forces  before  Trinity  Church, 
in  Broadway. 

In  1744  there  were  but  130  houses  in  all  New  York  west  of  Broadway  and  only 
about  1,150  in  the  whole  city.  There  was  scarcely  a  store  in  Broadway  up  to  the  days  of 
the  Revolution. 

Near  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Reade  Street  was  the  old  Negro  Burying  Ground. 
In  excavating  there,  at  this  day,  bones  are  sometimes  turned  up. 

There  were  several  noted  gardens,  public  and  private,  on  Broadway.  Near  the  Hos- 
pital was  Jones'  "Ranelagh  Garden."  Just  above  St.  Paul's  Church  was  a  "Drovers'  Inn," 
farm,  etc.  Colonel  Ramsay's  residence,  the  "White  Conduit  House,"  between  Leonard  and 
Franklin  Streets,  was  quite  out  of  town  in  1787.  The  ground  between  Nassau,  Ann  Street, 
and  the  Park  was  once  intended  for  a  governor's  garden ;  it  was  taken  from  the  Park  for 


[  260  ] 


THE  FIRST  STATION  WAS  COMPLETED  IN  1871.  BUT  WAS  ENTIRELY 
RECONSTRUCTED  TWICE  BEFORE  THE  PRESENT  PLAN  WAS  ADOPTED. 
THE  ABOVE  SHOWS  THE  SECOND  PERIOD.  THIS  WAS  ENTIRELY 
DEMOLISHED  TO  MAKE  ROOM    FOR  THE  PRESENT  STRUCTURE. 


/ 


Best  Possible  Ending  or  Broadway! 


that  purpose.  "Montagne's  Garden"  was  opposite  the  Park,  near  Murray  Street.  Here  the 
Sons  of  Liberty  held  their  meetings. 

In  1776  the  whole  of  Broadway  on  the  west  side  as  far  up  as  St.  Paul's  Church, 
and  nearly  that  distance  on  the  east  side,  was  reduced  to  ashes  by  fire;  not  a  house  was 
saved.    The  fire  began  in  Whitehall  Street  and  consumed  493  houses. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  resided  at  No.  1  Broadway.  Sir  Guy  Carleton  and  General  Howe 
all  resided  there.    Arnold  the  traitor  liver  there  a  time,  also. 

Broadway  is  generally  described  as  a  straight  street  three  miles  in  length.  This  is 
stretching  the  matter  a  little  too  far,  as  any  one  can  see  by  the  topographical  maps.  Al- 
though the  corporate  authorities  have  decreed  that  the  whole  of  Bloomingdale  Road  is  or 
shall  be  Broadway,  we  believe  that  the  people  are  satisfied  with  the  straight  street  and  have 
little  desire  to  extend  it  by  tortuous  angles.  It  is  a  matter  of  surprise  that  it  was  not  cut 
through  to  Fourteenth  Street  at  the  time  of  the  great  survey  of  the  island,  completed  in 
March,  1811.  Had  this  been  done,  and  Union  Park  made  a  square  from  Fourteenth  to 
Seventeenth  Street,  between  University  and  Irving  Place,  Broadway  would  have  ended  in 
the  best  manner  possible. 

It  is,  however,  by  the  building  of  Grace  Church,  permanently  settled  in  its  present 
bounds.  Beginning  in  latitude  40  deg.  41  min.  21  sec.  north,  longitude  74  deg.  5  min.  13 
sec.  west  (this  was  the  exact  place  of  Fort  George  determined  by  Gov.  Burnett  and  Mr. 
Prior  in  1769  for  the  government)  Broadway  runs  nearly  northeast  in  a  straight  line  to 
Tenth  Street,  11,600  feet  or  two  miles  and  63  rods — very  nearly  two  and  one-fifth  miles. 
It  is  80  feet  wide,  from  wall  to  wall — carriageway  about  44  feet,  and  sidewalks  18  each. 
There  are  785  houses  (or  numbers)  in  this  distance;  twenty-four  streets  cross  and  twenty-five 
end  in  Broadway  in  the  same  space.  Various  pavements  have  been  tried  in  this  street,  but 
common  round  stone  works  the  best  and  is  used  throughout,  except  near  Bond  Street,  where 
a  sort  of  railway  for  wheels  is  laid  of  heavy  blocks  of  faced  stone. 

Underneath  the  middle  of  Broadway  is  the  great  thirty-inch  iron  pipe  which  supplies 
nine-tenths  of  the  city  with  Croton  water.  Also,  at  the  sides  the  gas  pipes  from  which  the 
street  is  brilliantly  lighted  when  the  moon  is  either  too  young  or  too  old  to  shine. 

But  the  best  view  we  can  give  of  Broadway  will  be  to  start  from  the  Battery  and 
walk  slowly  up.  Before  you  is  Bowling  Green,  a  private  park  of  elliptic  form,  220  feet 
long  by  140  wide.  On  the  site  of  King  George's  statue  is  a  pile  of  rocks  about  eighteen 
feet  high  through  which  the  Croton  water  is  ejected,  forming  a  very  romantic  fountain. 

On  the  east  side  every  house  is  down  (by  the  fire  of  July  last)  as  far  as  Exchange  Place 
(old  Garden  Street).  South  of  the  Green  fronting  on  all  Broadway  is  a  fine  block  of  houses 
in  one  of  which  lives  the  millionaire,  Stephen  Whitney,  whose  property  is  said  to  amount  to 
about  $10,000,000.  The  houses  are  on  the  site  of  the  old  Government  House,  which  was 
removed  during  the  last  war. 

On  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  opposite  the  burnt  district,  are  many  splendid  private 
dwellings,  one  garden  and  three  hotels.  The  Atlantic  Garden  at  Nos.  9  and  11  extends  through 
to  Greenwich  Street,  and  forms  a  delightful  summer  lounge.  The  Atlantic  Hotel  at  No. 
5  is  a  four-story  building  95  feet  front  and  180  feet  deep,  having  85  rooms,  including  a 
dining-room  75  by  30  feet.  Cost  of  the  house,  $60,000 ;  furniture,  $25,000.  W.  C.  Ander- 
son is  the  present  keeper.  Price  of  board,  $1.50  per  day.  At  No.  39  is  the  Mansion 
House,  kept  by  Wm.  J.  Bunker.  This  is  a  large  and  commodious  hotel.  Between  55  and 
57  a  lane  runs  down  to  Lumber  Street,  many  years  ago  called  Oyster  Patee,  and  not  having 


[  263  ] 


Scudder's  "American  Museum" 


been  rechristened,  of  course  should  bear  that  name  now.  On  the  corner  of  Broadway  and 
Oyster  Patee  is  Mrs.  Mondon's  French  and  Spanish  Hotel.  Opposite  on  the  lower  corner 
of  Exchange  Place  is  the  pile  of  ruins  once  the  Waverly  House.  At  No.  66  is  the  Globe 
Hotel,  kept  by  Francis  Blancard.  This  house  is  much  patronized  by  West  India  travel- 
ers and  Englishmen.  On  the  corner  of  Rector  Street  are  the  walls  of  old  Grace  Church. 
This  building  is  to  be  refitted  and  opened  as  a  Chinese  Museum.  A  gentleman  of  ample  means 
and  enterprise  has  undertaken  the  project  and  will  carry  it  out  with  as  little  delay  as  pos- 
sible. From  the  Battery  to  Rector  Street  most  of  the  buildings  are  private  houses.  Stores 
will  occupy  the  east  side  when  the  burnt  district  is  rebuilt. 

Opposite  Wall  Street  stands  new  Trinity  Church.  This  is  the  finest  structure  of  the 
kind  in  America.  It  is  of  the  perpendicular  Gothic  style,  built  from  the  brownstone  so  com- 
mon to  our  architects. 

At  No.  110  is  the  Tremont  Temperance  House;  at  111  the  New  England  House.  Be- 
tween Thames  and  Cedar  Streets  stands  the  City  Hotel,  a  five-story  brick  building;  one 
hundred  and  one  feet  front,  133  feet  deep,  137  rooms,  gentlemen's  dining  room  86  by  27  feet 
— ladies'  dining  room  45  by  36.  Chester  Jennings  is  the  keeper.  Board,  $2.00  per  day. 
Nearly  opposite  is  the  Croton  Hotel,  opened  in  1843  by  J.  L.  Moore.  It  is  110  feet  front, 
100  feet  deep,  six  stories  high  and  has  100  rooms.  Dining  room  60  feet  by  28.  Board, 
$1.50  to  $2.00  per  day.    Cost  of  furniture,  $20,000. 

At  No.  157  is  The  Recess,  a  retired  and  quiet  house,  where  strangers  and  citizens  can 
find  excellent  accommodation  and  careful  attention.  It  is  a  commodious  and  well-arranged 
establishment  and  does  an  extensive  business.    It  is  kept  by  Wm.  A.  Francis. 

On  the  west  side,  between  Liberty  and  Cortlandt  Streets,  is  a  fine  building  nearly  com- 
pleted, which  is  to  be  opened  as  a  hotel  by  the  celebrated  Benjamin  Rathbun  of  Buffalo.  At 
the  corner  of  Maiden  Lane  is  Howard's  Hotel,  opened  in  1840,  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
popular  in  the  city.  It  is  of  brick,  six  stories  high,  161  feet  front,  130  feet  deep,  with  a 
dining-room  160  feet  by  30.  It  is  now  conducted  by  Thomas  and  Roe.  Board,  $2.00  per 
day.  On  the  other  side,  corner  of  Dey  Street,  stands  the  Franklin  House,  opened  in  1825. 
It  is  75  feet  front  by  150  deep,  five  stories  high,  containing  148  rooms.  Dining-room,  60 
by  35  feet.  Cost  of  house,  $130,000.  Furniture,  $35,000.  It  is  kept  by  Hayes  &  Tread- 
well.    Board,  $2.00  per  day. 

Between  Fulton  and  Vesey  Streets  is  St.  Paul's  Church  (Episcopal),  a  very  fine  struc- 
ture, with  the  spire  on  the  wrong  end.  In  the  wall  of  this  church  is  the  monument  of  Gen. 
Richard  Montgomery.  His  remains  were  brought  from  Canada  in  1818,  and  deposited  in  this 
mausoleum  by  the  government  of  this  State.  The  beautiful  monument  of  Thomas  Addis 
Emmet  stands  in  the  cemetery  south  of  the  church.  Many  other  noted  persons  have  found 
a  resting  place  in  this  yard. 

Opposite,  on  the  corner  of  Ann  Street,  is  the  "American  Museum"  founded  in  1810  by 
John  Scudder.  It  was  once  one  of  the  most  extensive  museums  in  America.  The  building 
is  decorated  outside  with  dauby  paintings  and  makes  a  very  flashy  appearance.  It  is  at 
present  conducted  by  a  Mr.  Barnum  of  "Joice  Heth"  notoriety.  Adjoining  the  museum  is 
the  Chemical  Bank,  the  only  bank  in  Broadway.  From  Rector  Street  to  the  Park  both 
sides  of  Broadway  are  crowded  with  shops  and  stores  of  every  description,  except  dry 
goods.  Groceries,  book  stores  in  abundance,  fancy  stores,  brokers'  offices,  drug  stores,  mock 
and  real  auctions,  jewelry,  clothing,  etc.,  etc.,  in  the  first  stories;  in  the  upper  rooms,  artists 
and  mechanics  in  light  work. 


[  264  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN. 

(iur  (01i>rat  SJcuispaiifr 


THE  EVENING  POST  BUILDING,  ON  THE  CORNER  OF  NASSAU  AND 
LIBERTY  STREETS. 1850.  THIS  IS  NEW  YORK  S  OLDEST  NEWSPAPER. 
BEING  ESTABLISHED  IN  1801.  AT  THE  SUGGESTION  OF  ALEXANDER 
HAMILTON.  IT  HAS  HAD  A  LONG  LIST  OF  DISTINGUISHED  EDITORS. 
FROM  COLEMAN  AT  THE  START  TO  VILLARD  OF  TO-DAY.  AMONG 
WHOM  WERE  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT.  JOHN  BIGELOW.  CARL 
SCHURZ.  PARKE  GODWIN.  LAWRENCE  GODKIN.  HORACE  WHITE. 
WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON.  JOHN  REUBEN  THOMPSON.  AND 
NOW  ROLLO  OGDEN. 

WASHINGTON  IRVING  ADVERTISED  HIS  "KNICKERBOCKER  HISTORY" 
IN  THE  POST  IN  SO  NOVEL  AND  CHARMING  A  MANNER  AS  TO  PUT 
OUR  PRESENT-DAY  EXPERTS  TO  SHAME.  FITZ  GREENE  HALLECK. 
WHO  INDUCED  ASTOR  TO  FOUND  HIS  LIBRARY.  WALT  WHITMAN. 
RODMAN  DRAKE  AND  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  WERE  AMONG  THE  EARLY 
CONTRIBUTORS.  IT  WAS  THE  FIRST  PAPER  IN  AMERICA  TO  GAIN 
ANY  LITERARY  DISTINCTION. 


New  York  Society  Library 


On  the  block  between  Vesey  and  Barclay  Streets  is  the  Astor  House,  by  far  the  most 
costly  hotel  in  the  city,  and  perhaps  in  the  world.  It  is  built  of  dark-colored  granite, 
quarried  from  Quincy,  Mass.,  201  feet  front  on  Broadway,  and  154  feet  deep,  five  stories 
high,  and  contains  308  rooms,  with  a  magnificent  dining  room  108  by  42  feet.  The  ground 
and  house  cost  nearly  $800,000,  and  the  furniture  $120,000.  It  is  now  kept  by  Coleman 
and  Stetson.  Board,  $2  per  day.  On  the  upper  corner  of  Barclay  Street  is  the  American 
Hotel,  71  feet  front,  125  deep,  six  stories  high,  and  contains  120  rooms ;  dining  room  64  by  33 
feet.  It  was  opened  in  1838,  and  is  now  kept  by  W.  B.  Cozzens.  Board,  $2  per  day. 
Officers  of  the  Army  and  Navy  generally  stop  here.  Opposite  this  hotel  is  the  Park  foun- 
tain, a  forlorn-looking  thing  but  susceptible  of  being  made  the  most  splendid  fountain  in  the 
world,  if  our  city  government  would  find  time  to  do  it. 

No.  253  is  the  New  York  Museum — once  very  popular  under  the  management  of  Mr. 
Peale.  On  the  corner  of  Chambers  Street  is  a  fine  row  of  buildings,  known  as  the  Granite 
Block,  and  on  the  corner  of  Reade  a  new  five-story  brick  block,  called  the  La  Farge  build- 
ings and  said  to  belong  to  Louis  Philippe,  but  we  doubt  that  story.  On  the  east  side,  cor- 
ner of  Reade,  on  the  site  of  Washington  Hall,  and  the  old  colored  burying  ground,  A.  T. 
Stewart  is  building  the  most  splendid  store  ever  seen  in  America.  The  front  is  of  marble; 
the  columns,  window  caps  and  sills,  etc.,  elaborately  carved;  sides  of  brick  and  marble. 

At  Reade  Street  ends  the  gradual  ascent  of  the  street  from  the  Battery.  From  Reade 
to  Anthony  the  grade  is  level.  From  Anthony  to  Canal  it  descends  considerably.  A  few 
years  since  Canal  Street  was  crossed  in  Broadway  by  a  heavy  stone  bridge,  beneath  which 
boys  were  wont  to  skate  on  the  ice.  The  bridge  is  gone  and  Broadway  descends  from 
Anthony  to  Canal,  and  rises  from  Canal  to  Prince,  where  it  is  nearly  level  to  the  end,  rising 
a  little  between  Eighth  and  Tenth  Streets,  so  that  the  end  is  the  highest  part  of  the  street. 

The  Halleck  House,  corner  of  Reade  Street,  is  now  a  Hotel  de  Paris.  The  Clarendon 
House  is  on  the  corner  of  Duane.  Opposite  the  Hospital  is  Gothic  (late  Masonic)  Hall,  a 
fine  Gothic  edifice,  once  known  as  the  headquarters  of  the  Whig  Party,  and  now  a  great 
bowling  saloon.  The  Hospital,  opposite  Pearl  Street,  is  a  group  of  stone  buildings  stand- 
ing back  from  the  street,  and  approached  between  two  rows  of  large  and  beautiful  elm  trees. 
Persons  suddenly  injured  are  taken  here.    There  are  20  physicians  and  about  200  patients. 

No.  340  is  the  entrance  to  the  Tabernacle  Congregational  Church — the  most  capacious 
edifice  in  the  city.  It  is  often  used  for  public  meetings,  concerts,  lectures,  etc.  From  four 
to  five  thousand  persons  can  get  into  it.  It  stands  back  from  Broadway  about  100  feet,  be- 
tween Pearl  Street  and  Chatham  Lane. 

On  the  lower  corner  of  Leonard  Street  is  the  fine  building  of  the  New  York  Society 
Library.  The  building  is  of  brown  stone,  with  six  Ionic  columns  in  front.  The  institution 
was  founded  in  1754.  The  library  is  one  of  the  largest  and  most  valuable  in  the  Union.  The 
Academy  of  Design  give  their  annual  exhibitions  in  this  building.  On  the  opposite  corner 
is  the  Carleton  House,  a  quiet  and  good  hotel,  conducted  by  Benson  and  Hodges.  It  is  five 
stories  high,  60  feet  front,  175  deep,  and  contains  128  rooms.  It  was  opened  in  1839. 
Board,  $2  per  day.  On  the  other  side  of  Broadway  is  the  Athenaeum  Hotel,  by  R.  L. 
Eaton. 

At  No.  353  is  the  New  York  Garden,  a  place  formerly  much  frequented  in  the  sum- 
mer for  ice  cream  and  cooling  drinks.  At  No.  398  is  the  celebrated  bathing  establishment 
kept  by  Charles  Stoppani.  At  406  is  a  large  saloon  called  the  Minerva  Rooms,  and  at  410 
is  the  Apollo  Saloon ;  these  rooms  are  used  for  casual  exhibitions,  lectures,  balls,  soirees,  etc. 


[267] 


Tattersall's  Horse  Market 


At  411  are  the  Lodge  Rooms  of  Olive  Branch,  Commercial,  Fidelity,  Hinman,  and  Merchants' 
Lodges,  and  Palestine  Encampment  of  Odd  Fellows. 

From  the  Park  to  Canal  Street,  the  west  side  of  Broadway  is  walled  in  by  stores  filled 
with  the  most  costly  goods  to  be  obtained  in  the  world.  This  part  of  the  street,  and  par- 
ticularly this  side,  is  the  great  bazaar  of  Fashion,  and  here,  from  1  to  4  o'clock,  throng, 
on  foot  and  in  carriages,  the  "upper  ten  thousand"  with  well-filled  purses,  to  adorn  their 
sacred  forms  with  jewels  and  fine  raiment. 

From  the  Park  to  Canal  Street,  on  the  east  side,  dwelling  houses  and  stores  are  about 
equally  mingled;  on  the  west,  stores  greatly  predominate. 

At  the  corner  of  Howard  is  the  Howard  House,  well  known  as  the  headquarters  of  the 
Masonic  order  in  this  city.  This  ho.use  has  lately  been  enlarged  and  improved.  At  No. 
444  is  the  Olympic  Theatre,  small  in  size  but  great  in  reputation.  It  was  opened  in  1837 
and  for  two  years  remained  almost  unknown. 

Next  to  this  theatre  is  the  Tattersall's,  or  Horse  Market,  where  regular  sales  are  held 
on  Mondays  and  Wednesdays.  No.  450  is  a  new  building  called  the  Coliseum,  running 
through  to  Crosby  Street,  some  200  feet.  Here  is  ample  room  for  public  assemblies.  On 
the  lower  corner  of  Grand  Street  is  American  Hall — the  headquarters  of  the  Native  party — 
kept  by  John  de  la  Vergne.  On  the  upper  corner  is  the  Broadway  House,  with  a  dining 
saloon  attached. 

From  this  point,  dwelling  houses  stretch  to  the  end  of  Broadway,  with  but  few  inter- 
ruptions, on  this  side.  A  great  number  of  physicians  reside  here,  and  from  Broome  to 
Spring,  the  block  might  properly  be  named  Doctors'  Place.  Speaking  of  "places,"  we 
are  happy  to  state  that  the  foolish  practice  in  many  uptown  streets  of  making  and  number- 
ing some  five  or  six  "places"  till  the  original  street  is  nearly  forgotten,  thus  causing  great 
confusion  and  difficulty  among  strangers  in  finding  locations,  has  not  yet  reached  Broadway 
and  we  hope  never  will.  The  principal  public  buildings  on  the  east  side  from  Grand  to  Tenth 
Street  are,  at  No.  548,  a  new  Unitarian  Church  standing  in  the  rear  but  having  the  en- 
trance on  Broadway.  This  church  is  very  large  and  costly ;  Rev.  Henry  W.  Bellows,  pastor. 
At  the  corner  of  Prince  Street  is  Niblo's  Garden,  where  a  theatre  and  various  exhibitions 
may  be  found  during  the  summer,  at  which  time  it  is  a  highly  fashionable  resort.  In  the 
fall,  the  Annual  Exhibition  or  Fair  of  the  American  Institute,  and  during  the  winter,  lec- 
tures, concerts,  etc.,  are  given  there.  Nos.  594-6-8  is  a  splendid  new  edifice  designed  for  a 
Club  House  on  the  English  plan.  We  understand  many  of  our  most  esteemed  citizens  are 
interested  in  this  club.  The  next  building  is  a  magnificent  bathing  establishment,  recently  en- 
larged and  newly  furnished.  Opposite  Waverly  Place  is  the  Church  of  the  Messiah,  a  large 
gloomy-looking  building,  but  rendered  attractive  by  the  eloquence  of  its  distinguished 
pastor,  Rev.  Dr.  Orville  Dewey. 

To  return  to  Grand  Street.  Broadway  on  the  west  side  is  more  occupied  with  small 
stores  as  far  as  Houston  Street.  At  559  is  the  Alhambra,  a  place  of  great  summer  resort 
for  creams,  fruits,  etc.,  and  in  winter  used  for  concerts  and  balls.  At  No.  659  is  the  Lyceum 
of  Natural  History,  founded  in  1817,  for  the  purpose  implied  in  the  name.  Here  is  a  large 
collection  of  specimens  in  every  department  of  Natural  History,  opened  gratis  to  the  public. 
The  Society  has  a  large  library,  has  published  three  volumes  of  its  transactions,  and  is  in 
a  flourishing  condition.  At  No.  585,  in  a  house  of  rather  ordinary  aspect,  dwells  the  most 
often  mentioned  and  least  seen  man  in  New  York — envied  by  all  and  beloved  by  few — holding 
single  handed  the  reins  of  the  greatest  power  ever  before  in  the  grasp  of  one  man  on  this 

[  268  ] 


T.    J.  OOE. 


2rt .    T.  OOE. 


UNION  SQUARE, 

BROADWAY,  between  Fourteenth  and  Fifteenth  Streets,  NEW  YORK. 

o  BOARD,  $3.50  PER  DAY. 

T.  .1.  COB  St  so>  .  Proprietors!  formerly  ot  the  kkv>;«k  norm:. 

COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H,  C  BROWN 

©hp  g-oinglrr  Sjotel  in  Union  S'quarr,  1SBD 


THE  FAMOUS  SPINGLER  HOUSE.  ONE  OF  THE  MOST  EXPENSIVE 
HOTELS  OF  THE  DAY  (RATES  $3.60  AS  AGAINST  $2.00  AT  THE 
ASTOR).  STOOD  ON  UNION  SQUARE.  NEXT  TO  THE  CORNER  OF  14th 
STREET.  OUR  PRINT  IS  FROM  ONE  OF  THEIR  ORIGINAL  LITHO- 
GRAPHS AND  IS  NOW  EXCEEDINGLY  RARE.  IT  IS  NOT  SO  MANY 
YEARS  AGO  THAT  THE  HOTEL  WAS  RAZED  TO  MAKE  ROOM  FOR 
THE  SPINGLER  BUILDING.  AN  OFFICE  STRUCTURE  NOW  OCCUPYING 
THE  SAME  SITE, 

FROM    THE   COLLECTION   OF  MR.  J    CLARENCE  DAVIES. 


Grace  Church  at  "End"  of  Broadway 


continent;  we  mean  John  Jacob  Astor,  the  undisputed  owner  of  cash  and  property  amount- 
ing to  more  than  twenty  millions  of  dollars.  Mr.  Astor  is  about  80  years  old  and  so  feeble 
that  he  seldom  ventures  out.  It  is  said  that  his  only  ambition  now  is  to  make  his  son,  Wm.  B. 
Astor,  the  richest  man  in  the  world. 

At  597  is  Lafayette  Hall,  having  a  fine  drill  room,  where  several  companies  practise  war 
manoeuvres.  On  the  corner  of  Houston  Street  is  St.  Thomas'  Church  (Episcopal),  a 
rough  stone  Gothic  edifice  with  two  small  towers,  finished  inside  in  old  style.  Dr.  Whitehouse, 
a  man  of  distinguished  ability,  is  the  rector.  At  No.  659  is  the  Medical  College  of  New 
York  University.  Opposite  Bond  Street  is  the  Bond  Street  House — not  exactly  a  hotel  but 
an  immense  boarding  house.  Between  West  Washington  Place  and  Waverly  Place  is  the  New 
York  Hotel,  a  magnificent  building  of  brick,  six  stories  high,  198  feet  long,  and  125  deep, 
containing  200  rooms — dining  room  85  by  40  feet.  It  was  opened  by  the  present  proprietor, 
John  H.  Billings,  about  a  year  ago.  The  whole  cost  was  about  $375,000.  Board,  $2  per 
day. 

This  part  of  Broadway  contains  some  of  the  finest  houses  in  the  city,  and  the  whole 
street  may  be  called  well  built.  A  few  old  wooden  corners  remain,  but  they  are  fast  com- 
ing down. 

Grace  Church  is  exactly  opposite  the  end  of  Broadway,  and  at  a  little  distance  appears 
to  stand  in  the  street.  This  church  is  nearly  finished  outside  and  is  a  beautiful  specimen  of 
the  open  Gothic  style.    It  is  of  white  marble,  elaborately  carved. 

We  forgot  to  mention,  at  the  proper  place,  the  American  Art  Union,  at  No.  322,  an  in- 
corporated society  for  the  promotion  of  Fine  Arts.  There  is  there  a  good  collection  of 
paintings  and  statuary  at  free  exhibition  and  for  sale. 

The  Magnetic  Telegraph  runs  up  Broadway  from  Wall  to  Fourth  Street.  The  wires  are 
carried  on  poles  about  30  feet  in  height.  The  Philadelphia  and  Northern  wires  are  already 
laid. 

Many  of  the  streets  crossing  Broadway  have  had  their  names  changed  lately.  Accord- 
ing to  a  map  of  1804,  Battery  Place  was  Marketfield  Street;  Morris  Street  was  Beaver 
Lane ;  Exchange  Place  was  Garden  Street,  and  ran  across ;  Fulton  was  Partition  Street ;  Park 
Place  was  Robinson  Street;  Duane  was  Barley  Street;  Pearl  was  Magazine  Street;  Broome 
was  Bullock  Street ;  Houston  stopped  in  Broadway ;  Bleecker  was  David  Street  and  stopped 
in  Wooster;  Amity  Street  ran  from  its  present  junction  with  McDougal  to  the  corner  now 
Bleecker  and  Broadway ;  Fourth  was  Science  Street ;  Astor  Place  was  Art  Street,  and  ran 
as  far  as  Thompson ;  Eighth  was  Robert  Street ;  Ninth  was  Randall  Street ;  Tenth  was  Point 
Street. 

BROADWAY  IN  1913 

Some  years  ago  a  noted  writer  spoke  thus  of  this  thoroughfare:  "From  its 
beginning  at  the  Battery  till  it  tumbled  off  into  a  dusty  country  road  at  159th 
Street/'  etc.  To-day  there  is  no  "dusty  country  road  at  159th  Street."  This  illus- 
trates about  as  well  as  anything  could  the  continued  changes  going  on  in  our  main 
street.  That  was  written  in  1898,  and  if  Mr.  Richard  Harding  Davis  were  again  to 
handle  the  subject  he  would  be  compelled  to  add  just  about  one  hundred  additional 
blocks  to  reach  the  end  of  Broadway  within  the  city  limits.   At  Van  Courtlandt  Park, 


[271] 


The  Financial  Section 


its  northern  end,  it  really  does  not  stop  but  continues  along  to  Yonkers,  where  it  is 
all  splendidly  paved  with  asphalt  clear  up  to  the  city  limits  of  Yonkers.  There  is 
a  slight  stretch  of  macadam  road  beyond  that,  and  again  Broadway  is  paved  or 
otherwise  greatly  improved  over  the  ordinary  country  road,  and  not  until  you  get 
well  beyond  Tarrytown,  sixteen  miles  farther,  does  the  old  highway  relapse  into 
anything  resembling  a  country  road.  For  all  this  distance  it  is  lighted  at  night 
by  gas  and  electricity;  residences  line  both  sides  of  the  street,  and  it  is  more  popu- 
lous in  these  outskirts  to-day  than  it  was  below  130th  Street  twenty-five  years  ago. 
Tarrytown  is  over  thirty  miles  from  the  City  Hall,  and  Broadway  for  all  that  dis- 
tance is  better  paved,  better  lighted  and  has  a  much  finer  roadway  than  the  old 
Broadway  had  at  the  time  Mr.  Davis  wrote. 

It  is  the  longest  street  in  the  world,  it  is  by  far  the  most  important  in  the  New 
World  in  a  business  sense,  and  in  the  extent  and  variety  of  its  buildings  has  no 
rival.  It  typifies  as  nothing  else  does  the  extent  and  dominion  of  New  York's  social 
and  commercial  importance,  and  embodies  within  its  limits  an  epitome  of  the  whole 
country's  development. 

Two  massive  buildings,  one  on  each  side  of  the  street,  guard  like  sentinels  the  entrance  to 
Broadway.  They  are  the  offices  of  the  great  transatlantic  liners  and  face  Bowling  Green.  It 
was  this  open  space  that  was  black  with  a  frightened  throng  the  night  following  the  Titanic 
disaster.  In  this  section  of  Broadway  are  the  headquarters  of  maritime,  transportation  and 
allied  interests.  Street  cars  start  up  Broadway  at  this  point  for  all  sections  of  the  city,  and 
the  subway  cars  take  you  through  without  change  either  to  Van  Courtlandt  or  Bronx 
Park — a  distance  of  15  miles,  most  of  it  along  Broadway — in  about  35  minutes. 

Express  buildings  and  railroad  offices  are  next  in  order,  and  then  begins  the  Broadway 
end  of  the  financial  district,  which  extends  to  Pine  Street  and  beyond.  It  starts  with  what  is 
perhaps  the  most  famous  building  in  the  world — No.  26  Broadway — head  offices  of  the  great 
Standard  Oil  Company.  Other  massive  buildings  line  both  sides  of  the  street  till  we  come 
to  another  noted  thoroughfare — Wall  Street.  Trinity  Church  stands  directly  facing  Wall, 
and  with  its  cemetery  covers  a  whole  square  block.  Time  was  when  Trinity's  spire  gave  the 
highest  view  in  New  York.  Now  it  is  dwarfed  and  lost  amid  the  towering  skyscrapers  that 
surround  it  on  every  side. 

Past  the  Singer  Building  and  the  great  title  and  realty  companies,  banks,  insurance 
and  other  semi-financial  institutions,  we  come  to  old  St.  Paul's  and  the  Post  Office.  A  road  to 
the  right  (Park  Row)  leads  to  Boston.  We  pass  the  Post  Office,  the  open  space  of  the  City 
Hall,  and  are  now  in  the  beginning  of  the  wholesale  and  jobbing  districts  of  the  great 
staples — dry  goods,  cotton,  notions,  etc. 

From  Chambers  Street  to  Grace  Church  the  same  hurrying  throngs  are  seen,  though 
differing  somewhat  in  appearance  from  lower  downtown.  At  this  point  there  are  still  left 
some  suggestions  of  the  old  retail  section  which  formerly  held  sway  here,  but  with  the 
exception  of  Wanamaker's,  has  gone  much  farther  uptown.  Broadway  was  originally  de- 
signed to  end  at  Grace  Church,  but  it  took  a  notion  to  continue,  so  it  bends  a  little  to  the 
West,  skirts  Union  Square  just  above,  and  soon  crosses  Fifth  Avenue  at  Twenty-third  Street. 
Hotels  and  restaurants  now  begin  to  appear  with  here  and  there  a  theatre,  but  it  is  not  till 
you  get  to  Thirty-fourth  Street  that  the  real  heart  of  Broadway  begins.  Thirty-fourth 
Street  and  Sixth  Avenue  cross  it  at  this  point,  and  these  corners  are  said  to  be  the  busiest  of 


[272  ] 


iHaiiismt  Square  (garden  as  a  Sailroaii  Bepat 


PRIOR  TO  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  GRAND  CENTRAL  STATION  IN 
1871.  ALL  TRAINS  ON  THE  HARLEM  AND  NEW  HAVEN  ROADS  RAN 
TO  THE  DEPOT  ON  FOURTH  AVENUE  AND  26th  STREET  THE  NEW 
YORK  CENTRAL  DEPOT  WAS  ON  WEST  BROADWAY.  P.  T.  BARNUM 
AFTERWARDS  OCCUPIED  THIS  SITE  WITH  HIS  HIPPODROME.  AND 
GILMORE  S  FAMOUS  BAND  FOLLOWED  HIM. 


The  "Great  White  Way":  Dance  Teas  and  Lobster  Palaces 


any  in  town.  A  noteworthy  change  is  in  the  character  of  the  moving  throngs.  Women  are 
largely  in  the  majority,  as  we  are  now  in  the  vicinity  of  nearly  all  the  famous  dry-goods 
establishments,  and  the  side  streets  are  filled  with  little  specialty  shops  dealing  in  millinery, 
corsets,  costumes,  etc.,  etc.  It  is  in  the  midst  of  the  new  retail  shopping  district  and  the 
beginning  of  the  theatre  and  amusement  section,  which  ends  at  about  Fifty-ninth  Street, 
with  its  main  cohorts  resting  on  Long  Acre  Square  between  Forty-second  and  Fiftieth 
Streets.  About  forty  theatres  are  embraced  within  a  few  short  blocks,  and  the  famous  lobster 
palaces  about  which  so  much  is  written  are  nearly  all  found  within  the  same  restricted  area. 

Broadway  at  Forty-second  Street  is  undoubtedly  a  scene  of  much  animation.  All  day 
long  countless  thousands  from  out  of  town  are  on  the  streets  enjoying  the  sights,  while  as 
evening  approaches,  the  theatre  crush  converges  at  this  particular  corner.  Walking  seems 
reduced  to  a  science.  It  is  the  one  place  where  the  hobble  skirt  step  is  not  only  proper  but 
absolutely  necessary.  Taxicabs,  private  automobiles,  street  cars,  subways  and  elevateds  all 
combine  to  discharge  their  passengers  at  this  one  identical  spot  and  all  at  about  the  same 
time.  The  result  is  a  congestion  the  like  of  which  is  seen  nowhere  else  in  this  country 
or  any  other.  Such  is  the  assimilation  of  the  neighborhood,  however,  that  but  a  few  minutes 
are  required  to  digest  the  heterogeneous  mass.  The  theatres  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
will  take  care  of  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  persons,  while  the  restaurants,  cabaret  shows, 
concerts,  private  dinners,  public  meetings,  moving  pictures,  boxing  matches,  dancing 
academies  and  the  dozen  and  one  other  affairs  which  attract  people  after  nightfall  will 
easily  absorb  as  many  more. 

The  popular  name  for  this  delectable  region  is  the  "Great  White  Way."  In  addition  to 
the  illumination  furnished  by  the  city,  which  in  this  district  is  elaborate,  there  are  innumer- 
able electric  signs  of  wonderful  gorgeousness  in  front  of  various  establishments,  and  in  addi- 
tion to  that,  every  roof  corner  and  point  of  vantage  is  utilized  to  display  the  announcement 
of  some  commercial  character  by  means  of  the  same  dazzling  medium.  The  joyousness  and 
stimulation  that  come  from  a  veritable  transformation  of  night  into  day  and  the  brilliancy 
of  the  scene  is  an  experience  long  to  be  remembered. 

At  the  present  time  of  writing  (1913)  the  public  press  has  teemed  with  accounts  of  the 
efforts  to  suppress  dancing,  etc.,  in  the  Broadway  restaurants.  The  Turkey  Trot,  the 
Bunny  Hug,  the  Tango,  Grizzly  Bear  and  other  variations  of  the  old  waltz  have  suddenly 
loomed  large  in  the  horizon  of  police  activities  and  have  focussed  public  attention  upon 
a  form  of  amusement  hitherto  confined  to  the  sacred  precincts  of  private  life.  Events  move 
so  rapidly  in  New  York  that  by  the  time  this  is  printed  the  above  incident  may  have  been 
forgotten  and  only  a  few  remember  the  excitement  which  prevailed  for  a  time. 

The  "Lobster  Palaces"  and  other  resorts  where  the  stranger  is  wont  to  go,  abound  in 
this  region.  As  a  rule,  they  are  restaurants  where  the  service  is  good  and  the  food  of  the 
best  quality.  They  do  not,  of  course,  cater  for  the  ten-dollar-a-week  clerk,  but  they  are  con- 
ducted on  sound  business  principles  and  are  not  free  from  competition.  They  are  certainly 
pleasant  places.  The  music  is  good,  the  surroundings  are  refined.  This  part  of  Broadway 
never  sleeps.  It  may  not  be  quite  so  busy  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  but  there  is 
always  something  doing.  No  matter  what  part  of  town  you  may  be  in,  it  is  a  moral  certainty 
that  sooner  or  later  your  feet  will  tread  Broadway.  There  are  upwards  of  a  hundred  thou- 
sand out-of-town  visitors  to  New  York  every  day,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  not  one  of  them 
ever  goes  home  without  also  first  having  walked  on  this  famous  thoroughfare.  So  you  see 
there  are  plenty  of  people  to  keep  things  moving. 


[  275  ] 


Land  and  Water  Gates  of  Wall  Street 


As  you  come  toward  Central  Park  you  traverse  what  is  known  as  Automobile  Row. 
It  extends  from  about  Fiftieth  to  Sixty-fifth  Streets,  and  is  adorned  with  beautiful  new 
buildings  and  well-appointed  salesrooms,  all  given  over  to  this  splendid  industry.  Here  the 
cars  of  every  kind  are  displayed — foreign  as  well  as  domestic — and  attract  purchasers 
from  all  parts  of  the  country.  Beyond  the  Row  begin  a  large  number  of  apartment  hotels 
and  huge  apartment  houses  that  for  style  and  equipment  are  equalled  in  no  other  city  on 
earth.  Numerous  retail  stores  dot  the  street  for  miles — mostly  of  the  better  class.  As 
we  approach  125th  Street,  the  former  village  of  Harlem,  there  is  another  change  in  the 
character  of  the  street,  and  a  less  pretentious  class  of  buildings  are  encountered.  It  is  a 
reminder  of  olden  days  when  the  street  was  but  sparsely  built  up  between  Fifty-ninth  Street 
and  Harlem,  and  some  of  its  earlier  characteristics  are  still  retained.  As  we  leave  Harlem 
and  approach  Washington  Heights,  we  enter  what  is  probably  as  near  to  a  residential  dis- 
trict as  the  street  can  boast.  There  are  apartment  houses  of  all  sorts  and  descriptions,  but 
mostly  of  the  better  class.  And  yet  even  here  the  wants  of  the  community  require  the  pres- 
ence of  many  stores,  so  the  section  is  never  free  from  the  presence  of  business. 

At  110th  Street  the  Subway,  which  up  to  this  point  has  been  underground,  suddenly 
emerges  on  elevated  tracks  and  so  continues  to  the  end  of  the  line  at  242d  Street  and  Van 
Courtlandt  Park.  This  is  within  a  short  distance  of  the  city  line,  but  Broadway  continues 
on  the  even  tenor  of  its  way  up  to  Yonkers  and  beyond,  as  we  have  already  stated. 

Take  it  all  in  all,  Broadway  is  a  wonderful  thoroughfare.  Only  a  few  years  ago  its 
northern  end  ran  through  a  farm  that  had  remained  in  the  possession  of  one  family  for  two 
hundred  years,  thus  preventing  development.  In  this  short  time  the  "farm"  is  already  laid 
out  in  streets  and  dozens  of  apartment  houses  dot  the  vicinity  of  the  Elevated  running  along 
Broadway  through  the  "farm." 

While  these  words  are  still  fresh,  changes  will  have  occurred  that  will  almost  make  this 
description  unrecognizable. 

Dear  old  Broadway ! 

WALL  STREET:  THE  BEST  KNOWN  STREET  IN  NEW  YORK 

When  New  Amsterdam  was  fairly  under  way  the  settlers  who  were  clustered 
round  the  fort  complained  bitterly  of  the  attacks  of  wild  beasts,  particularly  black 
bears,  on  their  flocks  of  sheep  and  cows,  and  of  the  sudden  depredations  of  the  In- 
dians who  would  emerge  from  the  black  forests  to  the  north  and  as  suddenly  disap- 
pear. As  a  measure  of  protection,  Stuyvesant  ordered  a  wall  built  across  the  island 
at  this  point  extending  from  river  to  river.  At  Broadway,  where  Trinity  now 
stands,  Avas  one  opening  called  the  Land  Gate  and  at  Pearl  Street  was  another 
called  the  Water  Gate.  The  wall  was  built  of  split  tree-trunks  and  its  cost  was  made 
a  general  town  charge.  It  was  of  the  usual  stockade  type  and  in  time  of  need  was 
patrolled  its  length  by  men  of  the  watch.  The  wall  was  subsequently  greatly 
strengthened  by  the  English,  but  in  time  the  little  settlement  grew  up  and  beyond 
it  and  the  wall  finally  disappeared.  But  the  name  remains  and  that  narrow  strip 
on  which  it  stood  has  ever  since  been  known  as  the  Wall  or  Wall  Street. 

It  is  doubtful  if  any  thoroughfare  in  the  world  is  better  known  than  Wall 
Street.    It  is  unusually  narrow — thirty-five  feet— and  runs  only  from  Broadway  to 


[  276  ] 


42nb  j§>trrrt  from  ^rronu  Auruur,  looking  Wvst,  1BG0 


ALL  AROUND  THE  PRESENT  TERMINAL  WERE  THE  HOMES  OF  SQUAT- 
TERS. THESE  PEOPLE  MADE  TROUBLE  WHEN  IMPROVEMENTS  BEGAN. 
AND  LOTS  OF  FIERCE  FIGHTS  RESULTED.  THE  REGION  WAS  VERY 
ROCKY  AND  VERY  HILLY.  IT  WAS  KNOWN  AS  "SHANTY  TOWN."  THE 
PRESENT  WONDERFUL  STATION  COVERS  THE  WORST  AND  MOST 
SQUALID  PART  OF  THIS  SECTION. 


Notable  Changes  in  the  Street's  Buildings 


the  East  River — a  scant  half  mile.  Yet  its  fame  has  penetrated  to  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth  and  it  enjoys  a  celebrity  all  its  own.  It  boasts  of  the  most 
widely  known  corner  in  the  world — the  banking  offices  of  J.  P.  Morgan  &  Co. — 
whose  diagonal  doorway  fronts  equally  on  Wall  and  Broad  Streets.  Directly  op- 
posite Morgan's  is  the  United  States  Treasury  Building,  erected  on  the  site  of  the 
old  City  Hall.  From  the  balcony  in  this  building  George  Washington  was  sworn 
in  as  first  President  of  the  United  States,  and  for  a  time  the  building  was  used  as 
the  headquarters  of  the  Federal  Government.  When  the  New  Government  House 
was  erected  on  Bowling  Green,  the  old  Federal  Hall  was  demolished  and  a  Cus- 
tom House  erected  in  its  place.  This  in  time  became  wholly  inadequate  for  the 
constantly  growing  business  of  the  city  and  resort  was  had  to  a  more  commodious 
site  farther  down  the  street — the  Merchants'  Exchange. 

Upon  the  removal  of  the  Custom  House,  the  building  then  became  the  U.  S. 
Treasury  Office  and  has  since  so  remained.  About  1905  the  Government  sold  its 
Custom  House  site  on  Wall  Street  to  the  National  City  Bank  and  removed  the  Cus- 
tom House  to  its  beautiful  new  building  on  Bowling  Green.  Now  the  Government 
is  going  to  abandon  the  Treasury  Building,  and  the  J.  P.  Morgan  Building  across 
the  way  will  also  be  superseded  by  an  entirely  new  structure  and  both  these 
ancient  landmarks  will  have  disappeared. 

The  corner  facing  Morgan's  from  the  west  is  occupied  by  another  bank- 
ing house,  H.  B.  Hollins  &  Co.;  diagonally  across  from  Morgan's,  and  to  the 
west,  is  the  latest  home  of  the  Bankers'  Trust  Co.  The  corner  of  Nassau  and 
Wall  on  which  the  Bankers'  Trust  now  stands  enjoys  the  distinction  of  being 
the  most  wasteful  corner  on  earth.  No  less  than  three  splendid  modern  buildings 
have  been  raised  within  the  past  twenty  years  and  replaced  by  newer,  higher  and 
more  costly  structures.  The  last  building  to  be  removed  cost  nearly  $1,600,000.00 
and  had  been  erected  less  than  ten  years.  It  was  known  as  the  Gillender  Building 
and  was  a  thoroughly  up-to-date  modern  office  building.  It  was  on  a  very  nar- 
row plot,  however,  and  the  floor  space  was  somewhat  restricted.  Additional  land 
was  procured  on  both  Nassau  and  Wall  Streets  for  the  Bankers'  Trust  and  the 
latter  building  is  easily  one  of  the  finest  in  New  York.  It  represents  an  invest- 
ment of  probably  six  or  seven  millions  and  the  indications  are  that  it  will  be  al- 
lowed to  stand  for  at  least  a  normal  period. 

When  these  changes  are  completed  the  view  from  Trinity  Church,  which  stands 
sentinel-like  at  the  head  of  Wall  Street,  will  have  been  materially  altered.  The 
new  Morgan  structure  will  for  the  present  conform  in  height  closely  to  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  present  building,  although  it  may  subsequently  be  transformed  into  a 
skyscraper. 

The  National  City  Bank,  occupying  as  it  does  almost  the  whole  block  below 
William  Street  and  being  of  such  imposing  dimensions,  is  easily  the  next  most 
easily  recognized  building  on  the  street.  While  this  building  has  been  completely 
remodelled  on  the  inside  to  conform  to  the  needs  of  a  modern  banking  house,  it  has 
still  retained  the  Ionic  colonnade  and  cupola  which  were  the  distinguishing  char- 


[279] 


Pearl  Street  Originally  a  Cowpath 


acteristics  of  the  old  Custom  House.  It  is  one  of  the  show  places  of  the  street  and 
visitors  are  never  allowed  to  go  away  without  a  visit  to  the  biggest  bank  in  town. 

A  few  steps  from  Broadway  brings  us  to  one  of  the  entrances  of  the  Stock 
Exchange.  The  main  facade  of  this  building,  however,  faces  Broad  Street,  and  is 
a  wonderfully  beautiful  structure. 

PEARL  STREET  AS  A  RETAIL  CENTRE:  CONTEMPORANEOUS 

VIEW  IN  1850 

It  is  quite  a  feat  of  imagination  to  connect  the  Pearl  Street  we  know  with 
the  sweet  and  lovely  "shore  road"  it  once  was.  Old  writers  tell  us  that  the  view 
across  the  blue  waters  of  the  Bay  and  the  verdure-clad  hills  opposite  was  one  of 
exquisite  beauty.  In  early  days  it  was  a  natural  road  from  the  Fort  out  of  the  city. 
It  naturally,  therefore,  became  a  business  street  very  early  in  its  career.  The 
sketch  of  it  which  follows  belongs  to  its  bygone  retail  days. 

Pearl  Street  was  surveyed  and  laid  out  by  the  cows  of  the  early  settlers,  as  they  wound 
around  the  steep  hills  along  by  the  margin  of  the  Salt  (East)  River,  to  the  excellent  pas- 
turage afforded  on  the  Salt  Meadows  on  the  site  of  the  present  Fourth  Ward.  This  is  the 
reason  of  its  serpentine  form,  the  cows  not  having  learned  that  the  shortest  way  round 
a  hill  is  to  go  through  it.  This  street  commenced  on  the  shoals  of  the  bay  at  a  point  now 
about  the  corner  of  Pearl  and  State  Streets.  From  this  point  to  Whitehall  it  was  called 
Pearle  Street.  From  Whitehall  it  was  called  Dock  Street  as  far  as  Hanover  Square,  at 
which  corner  Old  Slip  Market  was  located,  thence  to  Wall  Street  it  was  named  Hanover 
Square,  and  from  Wall  Street  to  the  Klocht  (Fresh  Water — called  the  "Collect"  by  the 
English)  it  bore  the  name  of  Great  Queen  Street.  In  its  whole  length,  it  crossed  White- 
hall, Broad,  Smith  (now  Hanover),  Sloat  Lane,  Wall,  King  (now  Pine),  Crown  (now  Lib- 
erty), Maiden  Lane,  Golden  Hill  (now  John),  Beekman's  Slip  (now  Fulton  Street),  Beekman 
and  Cherry  Streets  and  the  High  Road  to  Boston  (now  Chatham  Street). 

Up  to  the  era  of  the  Revolution,  Pearl  Street  was  occupied  only  with  dwelling  houses. 
Each  of  these  had  its  porch,  or  stoop,  with  seats.  Pearl  was  then  the  most  fashionable 
and  pleasant  street  in  the  city — the  Broadway  of  the  ancient  regime,  where  powdered  wigs, 
shoe  buckles  and  hooped  skirts  flaunted  in  all  the  pride  of  fashion. 

On  the  ground  now  occupied  by  the  stores  Nos.  71  and  73,  fronting  Coenties  Slip, 
stood  the  famous  Stadt-huys  (City  Hall  or  Governor's  House).  This  hall  was  first  built 
in  1642  by  order  of  William  Keift,  the  third  Dutch  Governor.  In  excavating  at  the  pres- 
ent day  on  the  south  side  of  Pearl,  below  Maiden  Lane,  the  former  pebbly  shore  of  the 
river  is  found. 

During  the  Revolution  many  celebrated  officers  resided  in  Pearl  Street.  Mrs.  Car- 
roll's boarding  house  was  the  resort  of  American  officers  on  parole,  and  Mrs.  Carroll  was 
long  remembered  by  the  soldiers  of  that  day  for  her  efforts  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of 
American  prisoners,  as  well  as  her  often  successful  plans  for  liberating  them  from  bond- 
age. General  Robinson,  British  commandant  of  the  city,  resided  in  Hanover  Square.  Ad- 
miral Digby,  Prince  William  (afterwards  William  IV)  and  the  infamous  Benedict  Arnold 
resided  at  the  corner  of  Hanover  Square  and  Sloat  Lane,  now  about  140  Pearl  Street. 
Admiral  Rodney  also  lived  near  this  location,  and  Governor  George  Clinton  resided  at 
No.  178,  known  as  Redmon's  Hotel.    General  Washington  resided  for  a  time  in  a  house 


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COPYRIGHT.  19  13.    H.  C.  BROWN 

iMatorn  £anr,  about  1BB5 


A  VERY  GOOD  VIEW  OF  MAIDEN  LANE  ABOUT  1885.  THE  FAMOUS 
CENTRE  OF  THE  WHOLESALE  JEWELRY  TRADE.  AN  IDEA  OF  THE 
LARGE  NUMBER  OF  WIRES  CARRIED  OVERHEAD  IN  THOSE  DAYS  CAN 
BE  JUDGED  BY  COUNTING  THE  ARMS  ON  THE  POLE  AT  THE  LEFT. 


Walton  House  and  United  States  Hotel 


near  Cherry  Street.  Negro  slaves  were  often  sold  at  the  corner  of  Maiden  Lane  and  Pearl 
Street— the  old  Fly  Market. 

The  Walton  House  was  the  finest  building  in  the  city  in  1762.  In  1766  the  people 
were  in  a  blaze  of  joy  and  the  Walton  House  in  a  blaze  of  light  on  receiving  the  news  of  the 
repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act.  The  headquarters  of  the  anti-stampers  being  here,  the  house  was 
gorgeously  illuminated  and  vocal  with  rejoicings  for  several  nights.  William  Walton,  the 
builder  of  the  Walton  House,  amassed  a  great  fortune  in  Spanish  and  West  Indian  trade,  and 
retired  to  this  spot,  out  of  town  then,  to  spend  his  old  age  in  quiet.  On  the  margin  of  the 
river  he  had  a  ship-yard,  and  between  that  and  his  house  a  superb  garden. 

A  Quaker  meeting  house  in  Pearl  Street  was  used  as  a  hospital  in  time  of  the  Revo- 
lution. A  little  east  of  the  corner  of  Pearl  and  Chatham,  in  a  low  swamp,  the  negroes  con- 
demned for  conspiracy  in  the  attempted  insurrection  of  1741  were  burned  alive  at  the  stake. 
Caesar,  the  principal  of  the  negroes,  was  hung  in  chains  in  Magazine  Street,  now  Pearl,  near 
Elm. 

In  1745  palisades  to  keep  off  the  Indians  were  erected  across  the  island  from  the  foot 
of  Dover  to  the  foot  of  Canal  Street.  One  of  the  blockhouses  was  in  Pearl  Street,  oppo- 
site Madison  (first  called  Bancker)  Street.  In  rainy  weather  boats  were  then  used  to  cross 
Pearl  Street  at  the  corner  of  Chatham.  There  was  at  one  time  a  bridge  here.  From  the 
Boston  Road  to  Broadway  the  present  Pearl  was  called  Magazine  Street.  Broadway  in  1772 
came  no  further  than  Duane  Street,  and  all  the  ground  about  the  junction  of  Pearl,  the  Hos- 
pital, etc.,  was  a  noble  hill  covered  with  fine  fruit  trees,  known  as  Rutgers'  Orchard.  The 
ground  was  much  higher  then  than  now.  Peck's  Hill  (Franklin  Square)  was  also  much  higher 
in  those  days ;  and  at  the  corner  of  Beekman  Street  was  Beekman's  Hill,  a  large  pile  of  pre- 
cipitous rocks  often  called  "the  Cliffs,"  from  which  is  derived  the  name  of  Cliff  Street.  St. 
George's  Church  stood  on  the  apex  of  what  gunpowder  and  pickaxes  have  left  of  the  cliffs, 
around  which  the  Dutch  cows  made  Pearl  Street.  The  disbanding  of  the  American  army  in 
Franklin  Square  by  General  Washington,  on  the  final  ratification  of  peace,  in  1783,  is  noted. 

The  great  conflagration  of  1835  swept  Pearl  Street,  from  Coenties  Slip  to  Wall  Street, 
destroying  about  eighty  buildings.  At  present  Pearl  Street  is  the  great  dry-goods  mart 
of  New  York ;  almost  every  store  from  Whitehall  to  Fulton  Street  being  occupied  by  whole- 
sale dealers  and  importers.  Block  after  block  of  large  warehouses,  filled  with  the  choicest 
productions  of  English  and  French  factories,  make  Pearl  one  of  the  wealthiest  streets  in 
the  world. 

The  only  remarkable  public  edifices  are  the  Pearl  Street  House,  the  United  States 
Hotel  and  the  Walton  House.  The  Pearl  Street  House  is  resorted  to  by  merchants  prin- 
cipally, it  being  the  very  centre  of  the  wholesale  business.  This  house  was  opened  in  1837, 
and  is  conducted  by  J.  M.  Flint  &  Co.  It  is  located  at  No.  88,  between  Coenties  Slip 
and  Hanover  Square;  built  of  brick,  six  stories  high,  75  feet  front  and  175  depth,  extending 
through  the  block  to  Water  Street.  There  are  in  it  200  rooms,  including  a  dining-room  95 
feet  long.    The  cost  of  house  and  furniture  was  about  $120,000. 

The  United  States  (formerly  known  as  Holt's)  Hotel,  on  the  corner  of  Pearl  and 
Fulton  Streets,  is  one  of  the  finest  buildings  in  the  country.  It  is  of  white  marble,  seven 
stories  high,  with  a  large  dome,  and  an  observatory  and  telegraphs.  It  has  225  rooms, 
with  a  dining-room  100  feet  in  length  and  60  in  breadth.  The  house  is  nearly  square,  front- 
ing on  Pearl,  Fulton  and  Water — 100  feet  front  and  130  deep.  It  was  finished  and  opened 
in  1832  at  a  cost  of  nearly  $450,000.   Henry  Johnson  is  the  present  landlord. 

From  Fulton  Street  to  Madison  the  principal  feature  of  Pearl  Street  is  boarding  houses, 


[  283  ] 


Opening  of  the  Astor  House 


almost  every  house,  on  the  west  side  particularly,  being  occupied  in  this  manner.  Their 
principal  patrons  are  downtown  clerks  and  unmarried  mechanics ;  and  notwithstanding  their 
moderate  charges  and  sometimes  wretched  accommodations,  they  contrive  to  keep  up  an  air 
of  respectability  and  exclusiveness  of  no  small  magnitude  and  even  come  boldly  up  along- 
side the  more  aristocratic  Beekman  Street  establishments. 

From  Rose  Street  to  Chatham  is  a  continuous  row  of  millinery  stores,  all  occupied  and 
conducted  by  ladies.  Here  throng  the  lady  population  to  examine  the  latest  fashions  of  head- 
gear— thrifty  middle-class  ladies,  hard-working  shop  girls,  and  often,  too,  at  unfashionable 
hours  and  in  close  disguise,  many  of  the  upper  ten  thousand,  whose  purses  are  getting  light, 
to  get  a  hat  of  the  latest  fashion  to  be  sported  the  next  day  as  a  fifty-dollar  Broadway  article. 
Opposite  these  millinery  shops  is  a  whole  block  of  carpet  warehouses — some  of  them  the  most 
extensive  in  the  city. 

Pearl  Street  is  also  celebrated  in  a  rather  unpleasant  way  as  being  the  chief  depot 
of  the  downtown  undertakers,  who  display  their  wares  in  agreeable  profusion — coffins  for 
"span  lang,  wee,  unchristened  bairns,"  and  upward  to  a  size  sufficient  to  hold  Goliath,  stand 
in  stark  array  in  their  solemn  halls,  to  fill  the  minds  of  passers-by  with  images  of  death. 

Pearl  Street  is  something  more  than  a  mile  in  length,  running  through  the  First,  Sec- 
ond, Fourth  and  Sixth  Wards,  in  its  course  making  for  every  point  of  the  compass,  and  form- 
ing altogether  some  such  figure  as  one  would  make  with  a  guard  chain  by  gathering  it  up  in 
his  hand  and  throwing  it  upon  a  table. 


FROM  A  CONTEMPORARY  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ASTOR 

HOUSE  AT  ITS  OPENING  IN  1836 

Now  that  the  old  Astor  House  is  no  more,  the  following  item  concerning  its 
beginning  will  be  of  interest.   It  was  originally  called  the  Park  View  Hotel : 

The  rooms  which  look  into  the  streets  are  all  furnished  as  parlors,  and  on  the  opposite  sides 
of  the  hall  are  the  bed  rooms.  On  this  floor  on  Broadway  is  a  Club  Room,  which  has  been 
named  "the  Duke's  Room,"  probably  intended  as  the  abode  of  so  important  a  personage,  should 
one  of  so  high  title  condescend  to  visit  our  wooden  country. 

The  upper  rooms  command  a  very  extensive  view  of  the  city  and  public  buildings.  Those 
on  the  south  and  western  wings  overlook  the  Hudson,  the  lower  and  upper  Bays,  the  Islands, 
the  Jersey  shore,  and  a  beautiful  and  interesting  view  of  the  shipping  at  the  wharves,  and  the 
spreading  canvas  of  hundreds  of  vessels  arriving  at  and  departing  from  what  may  truly  be 
termed  the  commercial  emporium  of  the  western  world. 

In  the  vard  there  is  a  well  of  most  excellent  water.  By  the  aid  of  hydraulic  machinery, 
this  is  raised  from  the  well,  and  carried  to  the  top  of  the  building,  and  in  case  of  a  drought, 
and  the  reservoirs  in  the  upper  part  of  the  building  should  fail,  the  house  can  be  amply  sup- 
plied with  rain  water  from  four  cisterns  in  the  yard. 

The  whole  number  of  rooms  in  the  building  is  400,  of  which  308  are  for  the  use  of  boarders. 
The  furnishing  is  said  to  have  been  completed  at  an  expense  of  $90,000,  including  $8,000 
worth  of  silver  plate,  and  plated  ware  to  the  amount  of  about  $10,000  net.  Every  portable 
article  of  linen,  towels,  china,  counterpanes,  silver,  Sic,  &c,  is  marked  "Astor  House"  in  letters 
so  plain  and  legible  that  nobody  can  mistake  the  ownership.    Eighty  servants  employed. 


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COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H.  C.  BROWN. 


A  FASHIONABLE  DAMES'  SCHOOL  IN  NEW  YORK  OF  A 

BYGONE  TYPE 

By  Euphemia  M.  Olcott 

These  very  modern  days  in  this  early  part  of  the  twentieth  century  are  days 
of  scientific  methods  of  teaching.  Pedagogy  has  a  name  to  live,  child-culture  is  a 
fad.  Into  the  lives  of  the  children  is  brought  such  a  train  of  prepared  events,  such 
a  diversity  of  systematic  occupations,  that  sometimes  there  seems  but  little  oppor- 
tunity for  the  spontaneity  which  used  to  be  considered  the  inherent  right  of  the 
human  as  of  the  purely  animal  young.  The  schools  of  the  present  day  meet  the 
multifarious  requirements  of  the  sanitary,  the  athletic,  the  experimental  cravings. 
The  "psychological  moment"  must  be  sought  and  seized  for  each  particular  bit  of 
instruction;  with  what  result?  Is  the  present  generation  better  equipped  for  the 
realities  of  life  than  their  mothers  and  their  grandmothers  have  proven  themselves? 
One  hails  all  progress,  one  would  not  wish  time  to  roll  backwards  in  its  flight ;  one 
does  not  cry  that  the  former  days  were  better  than  these — but  one  sometimes 
queries. 

Out  of  the  past  come  visions  of  the  first  school  I  ever  attended,  and  it  is  so 
clearly  a  school  the  very  type  of  which  is  a  bygone  thing  that  I  have  thought 
some  account  of  it  might  prove  interesting  and  possibly  draw  out  similar  recollec- 
tions from  others.  I  was  the  eldest  of  a  family  which  would  now  be  thought  tre- 
mendously numerous.  In  some  way  that  was  never  known,  I  evolved  for  myself 
an  ability  to  read  at  a  very  early  age,  and  when  I  had  reached  the  "seven  times  one 
are  seven"  age,  the  question  of  school  arose.  It  can  do  no  harm  at  this  late  day  to 
give  real  names  and  places.  The  school  chosen  was  kept  by  the  Misses  Taylor  and 
was  situated  at  102  Waverly  Place.  A  large  apartment  house  is  there  now  which 
extends  to  the  corner  of  Macdougal  Street.  In  my  school-days  the  corner  house 
was  occupied  by  another  school  kept  by  the  Misses  Meeker.  I  have  no  recollec- 
tions of  either  friendly  intercourse  or  jealous  rivalry  between  the  schools.  The 
Misses  Taylor  were  four  in  number.  Miss  Taylor,  whose  Christian  name  was  Jean- 
nette,  held  the  right  of  the  eldest  sister  as  completely  as  if  English  deference  to  the 
first-born  prevailed.  She  wore  a  curious  little  cap  of  lace,  trimmed  with  pink  or 
blue  ribbons,  and  always  used  a  large  reading  glass,  the  journeyings  of  which  across 
the  pages  of  a  printed  book  I  can  even  now  discern.  She  opened  school  in  a  man- 
ner hereafter  to  be  described,  but  her  teaching  was  devoted  to  the  younger  classes. 
"Miss  Eliza"  was  the  youngest  of  the  sisters,  and  I  can  realize  now  that  she  was 
the  admired  darling  of  the  house.  She  led  us  in  singing  and  taught  girls  of  a 
grade  older  than  those  taught  by  "Sister,"  by  which  title  she  invariably  addressed 
Miss  Taylor.  I  can  remember  two  dresses  that  she  wore,  with  a  current  tradition 


[  287] 


Personnel  and  Functions  of  the  Teachers 


that  she  was  "cross"  on  days  when  she  chose  a  certain  brown  and  green  plaid — 
but  truth  compels  me  to  state  that  I  do  not  recall  any  desperate  yielding  of  temper 
or  any  intentional  failure  in  justice  on  her  part.  There  was  a  certain  Mr.  Bolton 
who  appeared  on  certain  days  to  teach  the  "big  girls"  (I  doubt  if  any  in  the  school 
were  over  thirteen),  and  it  was  currently  reported  that  he  was  in  love  with  "Miss 
Eliza."  It  may  have  been  so,  but  she  cannot  have  responded  to  his  advances  if  he 
made  any,  for  after  retiring  from  teaching  she  gave  her  hand,  let  us  hope  her  heart 
with  it,  to  a  man  much  her  junior,  at  a  time  when  such  alliances  were  less  common 
than  they  have  since  become.  I  cannot  estimate  the  ages  of  these  ladies,  for  of 
course,  to  me,  they  seemed  very  old,  but  I  do  remember  a  change  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  Miss  Eliza's  hair  when  a  lock  was  drawn  tight  back  from  the  middle  of  her 
forehead  to  cover  the  thinning-out  part.  The  house  consisted  of  two  stories  and 
an  attic,  and  had  a  low  stoop,  and  the  girls'  schoolroom  was  the  second  story  front 
room  which  went  across  the  house  and  had  three  windows.  There  we  passed  our 
days  on  benches  guiltless  of  backs,  excepting  for  one  place,  as  I  recall  it,  where  the 
jamb  was  filled  in  with  a  seat  which  allowed  our  backs  to  rest  against  the  walls.  Into 
this  precinct  came  two  other  teachers,  Mr.  Taylor,  known  as  "Brother  John,"  be- 
cause so  called  by  his  sisters,  a  thin  wrinkled  man  who  chewed  tobacco  but  who  put 
a  good  deal  into  our  heads  by  methods  to  be  described  later,  and  Mr.  Brunier,  who 
gave  us  our  first  knowledge  of  French  from  the  then  highly  esteemed  Ollendorf, 
with  its  often-quoted  and  impossible  questions  and  answers.  "Have  you  seen  the 
key  of  my  grandmother's  garden?"  "Yes,  but  I  have  not  seen  the  horns  of  your 
grandmother's  red  cow,"  or  equally  relevant  remarks. 

Our  schoolroom  opened  by  large  folding  doors  into  the  back  room  and  over  this 
presided  Miss  Annabella,  who  taught  little  boys,  usually  brothers  of  the  front  room 
girls.  For  those  were  the  days  of  brothers  and  sisters  as  a  matter  of  course — an 
only  child  was  an  anomaly,  an  object  of  pity — and  a  spoiled  child,  I  may  say, 
was  considered  a  monster  of  iniquity.  There  was  still  another  sister,  Miss  Helen, 
who  was  the  housekeeper,  but  with  whom  we  had  no  intercourse,  and  who  was 
surrounded  with  ghostly  tradition,  making  her  an  object  of  awe  if  not  actual  terror 
as  we  occasionally  passed  her  on  the  stairs.  She  sometimes  raised  a  long  forefinger 
with  intent  to  hush  any  noise  that  happened  to  be  going  on  and  that  was  considered 
almost  like  the  glance  of  an  evil  eye,  though  I  do  not  suppose  she  ever  had  an  un- 
kind thought  towards  any  of  us.  Indeed,  I  feel  now  as  if  she  were  rather  disposed 
to  hurry  past  us,  almost  as  if  bashful  in  our  presence.  Hester,  a  colored  maid-of- 
all-work,  completed  the  establishment. 

One  married  brother  these  ladies  had,  named  William.  He  lived  in  Ninth 
Street  and  was  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Education.  Nevertheless  his  two  chil- 
dren, a  pale  boy  and  a  puny  girl,  attended  their  aunts'  school  while  their  father 
used  to  make  sporadic  visits,  flitting  from  class  to  class  and  from  individual  to 
individual,  propounding  rapid  questions,  mainly,  it  seems  to  me,  in  mental  arithme- 
tic, such  as  "Three  times  three,  add  twenty,  subtract  nine,  divide  by  four,  how  many?" 
to  which  he  expected  an  immediate  answer.  So  much  for  the  personnel  of  the  teach- 
ers. Later,  a  back  building  was  added  to  the  house  and  the  boys  were  transferred 


[  288  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN. 

jHabismt  &quarr :  f>ilr  of  mrtrnpnltian  SCtfp  Snsmame  Company,  18BII 


SHOWING  MR.  S.  L.  M.  BARLOW'S  HOUSE  AT  RIGHT.  DR.  PAR K H U  RST'S 
CHURCH  ON  THE  LEFT.  WITH  THE  RESIDENCES  OF  MR.  WILLIAM 
H.  APPLETON.  MR.  WILLIAM  E.  LAIMBEER,  MR.  EDWIN  PARSONS.  IN 
BETWEEN. 

THE  FAMOUS  CLOCK  TOWER  OF  THE  METROPOLITAN  REARS  ITS 
LOFTY  HEAD  ON  THE  SITE  OF  THE  STEEPLE  OF  THE  OLD  CHURCH. 
AND  IS  ONE  OF  THE  TALLEST  STRUCTURES  IN  THE  WORLD.  NO 
PART  OF  NEW  YORK  SHOWS  GREATER  AND  BETTER  CHANGES  THAN 
THIS  ANCIENT  POTTER'S  FIELD-MADISON  SQUARE 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  W    M.  STABLER 


Personnel  of  the  Pupils 


thereto,  and  then  one  Miss  Emmie  King  became  Miss  Annabella's  assistant,  hav- 
ing been  herself  a  pupil  even  during  our  day  and  seeming  to  us  incredibly  ad- 
vanced in  years  by  the  place  to  which  she  was  assigned. 

The  personnel  of  the  pupils  represented  very  diverse  types.  This  school  was 
popular  with  the  clergy  of  the  city,  but  two  of  Laura  Keene's  nieces  were  there 
at  a  time  when  actors  and  actresses  were  a  class  by  themselves,  not  recognized  by 
all  as  accomplished  products  of  genius,  artistic  temperament  and  plodding  indus- 
try. One  daughter  of  a  grocer  was  my  boon  companion;  in  fact,  I  think  we  called 
each  other  sister.  Yet  subtle  differences,  inherent  in  us  all,  would  creep  out,  for  in 
discussing  the  fact  that  my  mother  only  allowed  me  to  go  to  the  homes  of  those 
whose  parents  she  knew,  and  adding,  "Why,  So  and  so  went  to  take  tea  with  So 
and  so,  and  they  ate  in  the  kitchen!"  I  was  confronted  with  the  uncomprehending 
rejoinder,  "Well,  what  of  that?  We  always  do!"  So  ran  our  little  cosmos,  includ- 
ing nearly  every  grade  of  social  life,  yet  in  the  schoolroom  thoroughly  assimilated 
and  democratic.  I  recall  one  dark-skinned,  dark-eyed  little  girl  of  the  charming 
name  of  Keziah  Jones — and  commonly  called  "Kizzie" — whose  father  kept  a  coal 
yard  near  by  and  who  adored  me  with  that  romantic  attachment  which  is  second 
only  to  falling  in  love.  There  was  also  one  Nellie  Painter  who  executed  so  grace- 
fully what  our  "Miss  Eliza"  liked  to  call  a  "pas  seul"  that  it  was  whispered  that 
she  was  expected  some  day  to  dance  on  the  stage.  And  so  on  and  so  on.  Some  of 
us  still  cross  each  other's  paths,  but  most  live  only  in  the  little  corners  of  memory 
from  which  I  am  bringing  the  shreds.  When  sorrow  came  into  my  home  not  long 
ago,  the  greatest  surprise  I  had,  when  every  mail  was  bringing  missives  of  sympa- 
thy, was  one  from  the  only  Jewess  I  remember  at  the  school,  of  whom  I  had  heard 
nothing  in  all  the  years  that  had  elapsed. 

Well  do  I  remember  my  first  day.  I  had  two  cousins  in  the  school,  one  a  very 
little  older  than  I  was,  the  other  four  or  five  years  her  sister's  senior.  When  Miss 
Taylor,  having  received  me  in  the  parlor  at  the  hands  of  my  father,  from  the  same 
house  which  is  now  my  place  of  abode,  escorted  me  upstairs,  I  was  a  little  bit  shy, 
though,  as  I  naturally  loved  books  and  was  of  a  sociable  nature,  I  had  hailed  the  pros- 
pect of  school  with  pleasurable  excitement.  Still  I  was  glad  to  see  familiar  faces. 
But  the  cousin  nearest  my  age  disappointed  me,  feeling,  as  I  now  suppose,  that 
her  dignity  would  suffer  if  she  should  welcome  so  small  a  child.  The  other  one, 
however,  won  my  gratitude  by  hastening  to  me,  showing  me  where  to  put  my  hat 
and  coat — in  a  closet  in  the  boys'  room,  forsooth — and  then  leading  me  into  the 
motley  assembly  and  the  babel  of  conversation  before  the  business  of  the  day  had 
begun.  Enter  Miss  Taylor,  to  whom  each  one  of  us  dropped  a  curtsy  as  we 
always  did  every  time  we  approached  her — thus  differentiating  between  her  and 
Miss  Eliza.  A  curtsy  was  also  dropped  each  time  we  left  the  room — the  process 
being  to  grasp  the  door  handle  and  face  the  room  as  we  made  our  litle  bob.  But 
to  return  to  my  first  day.  The  opening  exercises  were  shared  by  the  girls  and 
the  boys.  The  folding  doors  being  thrown  open,  we  read  or  recited  Scripture,  usu- 
ally a  psalm,  and  preferably  one  capable  of  antiphonal  reading.  I  can  even  now 
hear  the  cadences  of  the  24th — the  girls  asking  "Who  is  the  King  of  Glory?" 


[291] 


Exercises  and  Methods  or  Instruction 


and  the  boys  responding  "The  Lord  of  Hosts,  He  is  the  King  of  Glory,"  or  the 
136th  with  the  recurrent  refrain  from  the  boys,  "For  His  Mercy  Endureth  For- 
ever." Miss  Taylor  led  us  in  prayer,  one  oft-repeated  phrase,  as  I  am  reminded, 
being,  "Prepare  us  for  what  Thou  art  preparing  for  us."  And  we  sang — hymns, 
to  be  sure,  but  also  songs — "Mary  to  the  Saviour's  Tomb"  is  the  first  hymn  which 
occurs  to  me,  "Majestic  Sweetness"  continues  even  yet  a  favorite — and  there  were 
many  others.  And  of  songs,  "Make  me  no  Gaudy  Chaplet,"  "I  Dreamt  that  I 
Dwelt  in  Marble  Halls,"  "The  Blue  Juniata,"  "Gaily  the  Troubadour,"  and,  for- 
sooth, "Alice,  Ben  Bolt."  When  after  years  of  retirement  this  appeared  in 
"Trilby"  and  its  origin  began  to  be  questioned,  I  was  able  to  quote  the  words  and 
sing  the  tune  as  learned  at  school.  The  strange  part  now  seems  to  me  that  I  recall 
no  instrument,  that  we  knew  nothing  of  notes  or  of  parts,  yet  we  all  sang,  in  uni- 
son evidently,  and  all  enjoyed  it.  Miss  Eliza  was  our  leader.  These  exercises  being 
concluded  on  my  first  day,  I  was  relegated  to  Miss  Taylor's  class,  and  very  soon  was 
furnished  with  "Little  Annie's  Second  Reader"  and  bidden  to  enunciate  its  opening 
passages.  Surprised  at  seeing  such  a  baby  book,  I  glibly  read  the  words  which  I 
have  never  forgotten — "How  old  art  thou,  thou  old  Oak  tree?  If  I  could  cut  thee 
down  and  count  thy  rings  I  could" — when  Miss  Taylor  interrupted  me,  "Why, 
you  know  how  to  read?"  Know  how  to  read!  I  felt  insulted  that  a  doubt  had 
ever  been  felt,  for  truly  I  could  not  remember  the  time  when  I  had  not  known  how 
to  read.  She  continued,  "This  is  not  the  class  for  you.  Eliza,"  raising  her  voice 
a  little,  "take  Euphemia  into  your  class."  The  change  was  made,  but  as  the  class 
which  I  had  left  consisted  of  girls  much  nearer  my  age  than  "Miss  Eliza's"  did, 
I  turned  to  them  at  recess  only  to  be  hatefully  received,  to  the  great  surprise  of  my 
innocent  heart,  used  only  to  kindness  at  home.  "Proudy!"  "Smarty!"  "You 
needn't  think  you  are  going  to  play  with  us.  Go  and  play  with  the  big  girls." 
And  I  was  seven  years  old.  However,  I  found  my  place  and  was  not  crushed,  for 
I  went  home  at  the  close  of  school  to  declare  that  I  liked  it  very,  very  much. 

As  to  methods  of  instruction.  We  belonged  to  the  memorizing  age  and  for 
that  fact  I  shall  never  cease  to  be  grateful.  I  know  that  the  alphabet  and  the 
multiplication  table  are  out  of  date,  but  a  revulsion  is  possible,  for  I  heard  only 
lately  of  a  return  to  columns  of  words  to  spell  and  even  to  syllabize,  and  paren- 
thetically, also  a  revolt  of  the  mothers,  clamoring  for  a  restoration  of  their  right 
to  cuddle  their  babies.  Allah  be  praised!  Certainly  we  had  much  spelling  and 
dictation,  too,  in  class  work,  and  on  occasions  when  the  whole  school  was  put 
together  and  "Mr.  John"  gave  out  the  words.  We  had  definitions  also,  a  book 
of  which  we  committed  whole  pages,  spelling  the  words,  announcing  the  parts  of 
speech  and  defining  them.  Baldwin's  Primary  Table  Book  began  with  One  I  one, 
then  took  up  addition,  subtraction,  multiplication  and  division  tables,  and  so  on 
to  weights  and  measures — first,  ten  mills  make  one  cent,  ten  cents  one  dime,  thence 
upward  to  the  "double  eagle,"  which  very  few  of  us  had  ever  seen,  then  proceed- 
ing to  the  English  money.  Troy  weight,  avoirdupois,  long,  square  and  cubic 
measure,  measures  such  as  the  hand  and  the  fathom,  weights  such  as  firkins  and 


[  292  ] 


HOUSE  OF  REFRESHMENT, 

CORNER  Of 


BROADWAY,  5  AVENUE  &23"  STREET. 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN 


(Eorjioral  ufjomjiamt's  Sua!)  ^aast 


KNOWN  AS  THE  MADISON  COTTAGE  AND  LOCATED.  INCREDIBLE  AS 
IT  MAY  SEEM.  ON  THE  CORNER  OF  FIFTH  AVENUE  AND  23ro  STREET 
AS  LATE  AS  1856.  IT  WAS  A  FAVORITE  RESORT  OF  SPORTY  NEW 
YORKERS.  AND  WAS  CONSIDERED  QUITE  A  SMART  BIT  OUT  OF  TOWN. 
IT  WAS  THE  FORERUNNER  OF  THE  FIFTH  AVENUE  HOTEL.  FRAN- 
COM  S  HIPPODROME  AND  CIRCUS  OCCUPIED  THIS  SAME  SITE  A 
YEAR  BEFORE.  OUR  PICTURE  IS  A  COPY  OF  ONE  OF  HIS  ADVER- 
TISING SHOW  CARDS.  AND  GIVES  AN  EXCELLENT  IDEA  OF  THE 
LOCATION  WHICH  MR.  ENO  WAS  SOON  TO  CONVERT  INTO  ONE  OF 
THE  CITY  S  GREATEST  HOSTELRIES.  AN  EXTREMELY  RARE  LITHO- 
GRAPH. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR    ROBERT  GO  EL  ET. 


Geography,  Ordinary  and  Extraordinary 


stones,  and  finally  a  connecting  link  with  the  then  less  remote  than  now  Colonial 
times  in  a  table  such  as 

20  pence  are  one  and  eight  pence 
30  pence  are  two  and  six  pence 
40  pence  are  three  and  four  pence 
50  pence  are  four  and  tuppence 
60  pence  are  five  shillings. 

All  of  these  tables  were  recited  individually  and  in  chorus  in  sing  song 
tunes  which  I  can  even  now  reproduce  and  were  emphasized  with  "skipping  about 
questions"  as  dissociated  as  possible — How  many  cents  in  a  dime?  How  many 
feet  in  a  rod?  How  many  inches  in  a  hand?  in  breathless  haste  with  the  fate- 
ful "next"  often  preventing  the  utterance  of  a  word  trembling  on  our  lips. 

In  geography,  in  addition  to  ordinary  methods,  were  two  additional  ones. 
"Mr.  John"  on  occasions  marshalled  the  whole  school  and  from  a  book  entitled 
"Magnall's  Questions"  took  us  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  wide,  wide  world. 
Well  do  I  remember  one  day  when  a  big  girl  mystified  me  by  knowing  in  ad- 
vance what  question  would  come  until  I  discovered  that  concealed  in  another  book 
she  held  a  copy  of  "Magnall"  itself.  There  were  no  answers  given,  so  no  decep- 
tion was  involved.  But  another  geographical  "extra"  was  even  more  unique. 
You  know  the  form  of  puzzle  called  "enigma."  My  1,  8,  3,  7,  etc.,  is  a  so  and  so — a 
series  of  words  to  be  guessed,  the  letters  when  placed  in  order  forming  a  sentence. 
Many  of  these  were  dictated  to  us  by  "Brother  John,"  but  we  also  made  them  indi- 
vidually, exchanging  them  with  each  other,  but  submitting  them  also  to  teachers,  who 
marked  us  according  to  skill  in  forming  them  or  success  in  guessing  them,  as  the  case 
might  be.  The  sentences  were  the  dicta  of  famous  men,  "England  expects  every 
man  to  do  his  duty" — "First  in  War,  First  in  peace,  First  in  the  hearts  of  his  coun- 
trymen," etc.,  sometimes  proverbs,  and  the  words  were  the  most  obscure  and  little 
known  places  to  be  found  on  the  map.  Lake  Tchad  in  Africa  and  the  River  Aa  in 
Switzerland  are  inseparable  in  my  mind  from  what  we  called  our  "nigs."  And  of 
course  even  when  we  had  discovered  what  the  sentence  was  we  were  bound  to  follow 
the  words  to  the  end  of  the  list.  It  was  a  valuable  exercise  and  always  entertaining. 
Then  we  had  Peter  Parley's  Universal  History,  and  not  to  neglect  the  natural  sci- 
ences we  had  Miss  Mary  Swift's  First  and  Second  Books  in  Natural  Philosophy 
wherein  were  unfolded  to  us  the  properties  of  matter,  the  arrangement  of  the  solar 
system,  the  mechanical  powers,  and  also,  at  the  end  of  each  chapter,  some  choice 
and  appropriate  little  poem.  Miss  Harriet  F.  Gould's  exquisite  bit  on  The  Frost 
still  lingers  in  its  entirety  in  my  memory.  From  these  we  graduated  into  a  book 
with  the  formidable  title  of  "Anatomy,  Physiology  and  Hygiene,"  and  an  interest 
never  quenched  was  aroused  in  me,  which  I  am  sure  might  have  led  me  to  study 
medicine  had  my  school  days  come  twenty-five  years  later  than  they  did.  Of 
course  we  wrote  in  copy-books,  the  copies  being  "set"  by  Miss  Eliza,  who  also 
corrected  all  the  compositions  of  the  school.  For  these,  titles  were  usually  given 
out,  but  very  often  lists  of  words  were  furnished  which  we  were  to  weave  into 


[  295  ] 


School  Discipline  in  the  Old  Days 


a  story  on  the  spot — an  exercise  which  I  consider  to  have  been  of  great  service  in 
every  way.  My  composition  book  contains  Miss  Eliza's  comments  written  in  very 
blue  ink — sometimes  Good,  sometimes  Very  Good — once,  to  my  great  distress, 
"Try  to  be  more  original  next  time,"  but  with  commendation  always  of  my  spell- 
ing. Great  was  the  excitement  when  once  a  week  the  folding  doors  were  opened 
and  the  girls  read  compositions  deemed  worthy  of  such  honor,  while  the  boys 
"spoke  pieces."  One  middle-aged  man  even  now  represents  "Bingen  on  the 
Rhine"  to  me,  while  "Lochinvar,"  "Lochiel,  Lochiel,  beware  of  the  day,"  "Lord 
Ullin's  Daughter"  and  even  dialogues,  sometimes  from  Shakespeare  himself,  re- 
sounded frequently.  And  to  show  that  we  even  anticipated  the  present-day  habit 
of  teaching  by  lectures  I  recall  occasional  visits  from  showmen,  a  small  tax  being 
collected  from  each  one  who  wished  to  remain  after  school  for  the  occasion,  and  the 
two  which  memory  conjures  up  are  a  lurid  panorama  of  the  then  recent  Siege  of 
Sebastopol,  and  a  "Solar  Microscope"  when  monsters  of  all  kinds  swam  across  the 
suspended  sheet  and  we  were  given  to  believe  that  we  were  gazing  upon  a  drop  of 
Croton  water  with  its  inhabitants.  Well,  we  were  guiltless  of  the  fear  of  germs 
then  and  microbe  was  an  uncoined  word.  Upon  a  table  stood  a  long  open  crock 
of  this  same  Croton  and  into  it  we  dipped  a  tin  cup — not  a  long-handled  dipper 
— so  often  as  we  craved  a  drink.  But  one  day  we  drew  the  line.  Of  course  we  be- 
longed to  the  age  of  slates  and  pencils,  a  heated  knitting  needle  bored  a  hole  in  our 
slate  frame,  a  string  was  passed  through  and  a  sponge  at  one  end  and  pencil  at  the 
other  completed  the  equipment.  We  were  in  the  habit  of  wetting  the  sponge  at  a 
faucet  down  stairs  unless  we  were  so  very  fine  as  to  keep  a  phial — spelled  p-h-i-a-1 
— of  water  in  our  desks.  But  one  day,  my  little  satellite,  Kizzie  Jones,  was  caught 
squeezing  out  her  dirty  sponge,  held  in  her  not  over  clean  hand,  in  that  crock  of 
water!  Dire  was  our  resentment  and  justly  severe  was  Miss  Taylor's  horrified  re- 
proof. Just  one  more  tale  about  Kizzie,  which  illustrates  various  things  which 
speak  for  themselves.  There  were  days  when  we  took  sewing  to  school  and  once 
I  was  the  proud  possessor  of  a  little  grooved  hemisphere  of  wax.  It  was  stored 
away  in  my  desk,  when  suddenly  I  discovered  that  a  portion  of  it  had  disappeared, 
evidently  bitten  off.  Perturbed,  distressed,  I  carried  it  to  Miss  Taylor,  not  dream- 
ing who  could  have  done  so  unkind  a  thing.  Promptly  she  acted — I  suppose  I 
was  one  of  the  "big  girls"  by  that  time —  (I  left  school  before  I  was  thirteen) .  She 
lined  up  all  the  little  girls  and  tested  them  one  by  one  until  she  found  the  little 
front  teeth  which  fitted  the  bite,  and  lo!  the  culprit  was  Kizzie.  I  draw  a  veil 
over — in  fact  I  do  not  really  remember — the  sequel,  but  I  do  know  that  loyal  little 
Kizzie  bore  me  no  ill  will.  I  wonder  whatever  became  of  her.  This  incident 
naturally  leads  the  way  to  the  discipline  of  the  school.  It  was  not  severe — I  think 
it  was  just.  To  be  stood  up  on  one  of  the  benches  was  ignominy.  Alas  I  it  once 
befell  my  sister,  faultless  child  though  she  had  ever  been  considered,  and  I  was 
overwhelmed.  Quickly  leaving  my  own  seat  I  established  myself  at  her  feet  and 
there  remained  during  the  penal  period.  To  the  lasting  honor  of  my  teachers  I 
was  not  reproved  for  the  sisterly  act,  but  I  was  asked  by  a  sisterless  girl,  "Do  you 
love  her  as  much  as  that?"    The  most  awful  disgrace  that  could  be  imposed  upon 


[  296  ] 


Sports  and  Pastimes  of  Recess 


a  boy  was  to  be  led  majestically  by  Miss  Annabella  into  the  girls'  room  and  there 
left  for  the  immediate  period.  This  happened  rather  often,  but  not  so  often  as  to 
breed  our  contempt  through  familiarity. 

The  last  day  of  school  was  a  festival.  Prizes  were  awarded,  but  I  rather 
fancy  there  was  practically  a  gift  for  each  child.  I  still  have  one  book — Examples  of 
Goodness — a  square  volume  with  tales  of  good  and  useful  children.  The  illustra- 
tions are  colored  and  have  a  Swiss  effect — in  fact,  the  book  is  a  translation  from  the 
German.  On  the  fly  leaf  is  inscribed  a  presentation  and  it  is  dated  July  12, 1852. 
No  closing  of  school  by  our  present  Memorial  Day  at  that  time.  Recess  calls  for 
a  special  note.  We  carried  lunch  and  sometimes  made  a  feast  by  combination. 
Three  stores  on  Sixth  Avenue  were  much  patronized,  a  special  favor  being  per- 
mission to  go  to  them,  and  many  commissions  averaging  a  cent  apiece,  which  must 
have  caused  dismay  to  the  bookkeeper,  being  given  to  the  favored  one.  Walduck's 
Bakery  at  the  corner  of  Eighth  Street  provided  us  our  first  choice  Roundhearts, 
four  for  a  penny.  They  were  scalloped  ginger  cakes,  and  as  their  color  comes  be- 
fore me,  I  feel  sure  that  they  were  full  of  saleratus,  but  to  us  they  were  tooth- 
some delights.  A  candy  store  supplied  taffy  and  other  sweeties,  my  first  acquaint- 
ance being  thus  made  with  molasses  peppermints,  pillow  shaped,  yellow  lumps  with 
brown  stripes  across  them,  much  esteemed  by  us  all.  The  other  shop  was  not  for 
eatables,  but  for  school  supplies,  "Burnton's  Book  Stores,"  where  all  necessities 
were  found,  and  chief  of  all  certain  shiny  buff  paper,  the  like  of  which  I  never  see 
now,  with  which  we  covered  our  books.  I  remember  also  being  once  one  of  a  com- 
mittee who  at  this  shop  bought  a  portable  writing  desk  and  filled  it  up  with  as  much 
generosity  as  did  poor  Ellen  Montgomery's  Mother  in  the  then  recently  published 
"Wide,  Wide  World,"  ours  being  a  joint  Christmas  gift  to  Miss  Eliza. 

In  fine  weather  we  spent  our  recess  in  the  back  yard  playing  "tag"  or  "ball," 
an  apricot  tree  representing  to  us  the  forbidden  fruit;  in  dubious  weather  we 
stayed  in  an  enclosed  piazza  under  the  boys'  schoolroom  of  the  later  stage;  in  very 
bad  weather  we  remained  upstairs  and  usually  had  tableaux.  Crude  they  must  have 
been,  with  only  our  own  hats,  coats  and  shawls  ( !)  for  properties,  but  Lady  Jane 
Grey  approached  the  throne  or  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  was  led  to  execution,  or  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  threw  down  his  cloak  for  Elizabeth,  or  Night  and  Morning,  the 
Orphan  Sisters  or  Taking  the  Veil  appeared  upon  the  scenes.  But  our  May 
festival  was  the  great  event  of  the  year.  Our  preparations  for  this  must  have  be- 
gun some  weeks  in  advance,  the  first  operation  being  the  election  of  a  Queen.  No 
hereditary  monarchy,  if  you  please,  but  the  popular  vote  for  the  most  popular  girl. 
Hidden  away  among  childhood's  treasures  I  find  safely  kept  through  all  the — shall 
I  confess  it? — more  than  half  a  century  which  has  elapsed  a  programme  neatly 
written  and  adorned  in  one  corner  with  a  blue  rosette  which  I  recall  as  the  badge 
of  a  secret  society  all  of  whose  secrets  and  its  very  purpose  have  escaped  my 
memory.  I  think  we  must  have  followed  a  cantata,  but  selections  of  individual 
preference  seem  to  have  been  inserted.  After  an  entrance  chorus,  later  a  chorus 
and  march,  a  solo  and  another  chorus,  we  arrived  at  the  central  event,  a  song,  "Re- 
ceive Thy  Crown,"  with  the  annotation  on  the  programme,  "Floras  present  the 


[  299  ] 


Religious  Spirit  or  the  Pupils 


crown."  Then  the  coronation  and  enthronement  with  appropriate  songs,  followed 
by  solo  by  the  Queen,  which  begins  "Filled  with  gratitude,"  and  then  a  long  series 
of  songs,  dances — pas  seuls,  these — and  recitations,  and  at  the  end,  though  not 
mentioned  on  the  programme,  came  always  the  climax  of  the  whole,  ice  cream.  We 
dressed  in  white  for  this  gala  day  and  were  expected  to  march  around  a  May- 
pole in  the  yard,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  I  remember  that  it  was  always  cold  and 
rainy.  Of  course  parents  and  friends  were  invited  and  we  really  did  hold  high 
festival. 

I  have  purposely  left  to  the  last  the  not  unusual  accompaniment  of  school  life, 
the  Post  Office — a  box  in  a  desk,  a  box  with  a  slit,  but  into  it  were  dropped,  of 
course,  all  sorts  of  missives.  Valentines  galore  on  that  Saint's  day,  paper  dolls — 
these  of  our  own  manufacture,  no  ready-made  prints,  still  less  Woman's  Exchange 
beauties,  then  existed — and  all  the  many  things  that  go  to  make  up  the  written  inter- 
course of  children,  but  over  and  above  all,  exchange  of  thoughts  on  religious  sub- 
jects. I  hesitate  to  describe  these  last,  because  they  seem  so  unlike  what  the  young- 
sters of  the  present  day  appear  to  feel  or  say,  but  they  were  an  intense  accompani- 
ment of  our  life,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  we  were  a  merry,  jolly  set  of  children,  with 
all  human  follies  and  many  human  faults.  The  terminology  of  the  day  was  ever  on 
our  lips — repentance,  conversion,  regeneration — and  we  understood  what  they 
meant.  Sin,  too,  was  a  very  definite  thing,  and  the  personal  devil  not  to  be  lightly 
considered.  Sin  was  "that  abominable  thing  which  God  hates."  Becoming  a  Chris- 
tian did  not  mean  mere  advance,  progress,  an  easy  sliding  into  some  personal  experi- 
ence. It  was  a  change,  a  definite  volition,  a  right  about  face.  We  had  come  to  the 
parting  of  the  ways ;  should  we  take  the  broad  and  easy  road,  downwards,  or  the 
straight  and  narrow  path  called  by  our  Christian  Indians  the  "Jesus  Road"?  I  think 
the  leader  in  all  this  was  the  very  one  whose  name  appears  as  May  Queen  on  the  two 
programmes  which  have  survived,  and  the  May  Queen,  remember,  was  the  most 
popular  member  of  the  school.  I  know  she  influenced  my  life,  which  responded  to 
her  individual  appeal,  though  no  incentive  was  omitted  in  my  home  training.  The 
letters  of  our  coterie  contained  exchange  of  religious  emotions  and  sentiment, 
earnest  appeals  to  friends  to  "Come  to  Jesus,"  to  be  "a  Christian,"  requests  to  be 
told  of  our  faults.  I  remember  once  a  note  addressed  to  myself  which  gave  an 
impassioned  utterance,  "Who  told  you  I  did  not  care  for  religion?  Oh,  believe  me, 
I  never  said  so;  indeed  I  did  not,  for  I  do  care  for  it."  When  my  Jewish  friend 
appeared  on  the  scene,  as  I  have  stated,  the  same  May  Queen  said  to  me,  "Don't 
you  remember  how  we  tried  to  convert  her  to  Christianity,  but  she  was  as  strong  in 
her  convictions  as  we  were  in  ours?"  We  held  prayer  meetings,  a  certain  dark  closet 
where  four  of  us  could  kneel  down  and  be  as  close  together  as  sardines  in  a  box 
was  our  great  resort,  and  the  invitation  "Come  down  with  me  at  recess"  meant  "Let 
us  pray  together."  The  fear  of  the  Lord  was  not  an  outworn  phrase  then,  but  it 
did  not  mean  terror,  it  only  meant  awe  and  a  fear  to  offend  Him  who  loved  us 
and  gave  His  Son  to  save  us.  I  am  sure  that  quickened  consciences  and  higher 
aspirations  which  never  left  us  were  results  and  I  know,  too,  that  the  year  which 
ended  my  career  at  that  school  saw  that  wonderful  wave  sweep  over  the  land 


[  300  ] 


A  CHARMING  VIEW  OF  OLD  MURRAY  STREET  IN  1822  WHEN  IT 
SLOPED  TO  THE  RIVER  AND  WAS  THE  ABODE  OF  MANY  OF  NEW 
YORK'S  BEST  FAMILIES.  WATER  WAS  DRAWN  FROM  THE  PUMP  ON 
THE  CORNER  AND  CONVEYED  TO  THE  HOUSES  IN  BUCKETS  CARRIED 
IN  PAIRS  ACROSS  THE  SHOULDERS  AS  SHOWN  IN  THE  LEFT  OF  THE 
PICTURE  AND  BY  THE  URCHIN  IN  THE  CENTRE. 

THE  CELEBRATED  DR.  JOHN  M.  MASON  PREACHED  IN  THE  MURRAY 
STREET  CHURCH.  SHOWN  IN  THE  DISTANCE.  AND  WAS  ONE  OFTHE 
MOST  POPULAR  DIVINES  OF  THE  DAY.  THIS  IS  THE  ORIGINAL  DRAW- 
ING BY  MAVERICK.  WHO  LIVED  IN  THE  SECOND  HOUSE  ON  RIGHT 
AND  FROM  WHICH  THE  VALENTINE     MANUAL     PRINT  WAS  TAKEN. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR    PERCY   R    PYNE.  2ND 


Fee:  Six  Dollars  per  Quarter 


which  has  come  down  in  religious  history  as  the  Great  Revival  of  1857-8.  Per- 
haps we  were  unconsciously  approaching  it.  Perhaps  a  similar  one  would  do  the 
rising  generation  no  harm. 

I  think  my  tale  is  told.  We  were  thoroughly  grounded  as  to  intellect,  as  to 
patriotism,  which  I  have  not  mentioned,  but  it  serves  also  to  link  me  with  the  re- 
mote past  to  say  that  much  stress  was  laid  on  Evacuation  Day,  and  as  to  character 
— Could  there  be  a  better  basis,  more  worthy  of  the  name  of  education?  Not  boast- 
fully, but  as  an  often  stated  fact  I  will  say  that  these  good  foundations  bore  such 
fruit  that  it  was  a  matter  of  note  that  those  who  went  thence  to  Miss  Green,  Miss 
Haines,  Mrs.  Gibson,  to  continue  their  studies,  invariably  took  high  stand  and 
finally,  O  ye  who  now  pay  present-day  prices  for  the  schooling  of  your  children, 
make  a  note  of  this  fact,  our  bills  were  receipted  for  six  dollars  a  quarter! 


THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES'  BALL  IN  1860 

In  the  fall  of  1912  considerable  interest  was  excited  in  New  York  by  the  fact 
that  the  Duke  of  Connaught,  who  had  come  to  visit  Mr.  Whitelaw  Reid,  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  occasion  to  call  and  pay  his  respects  to  Mr.  William  Butler  Dun- 
can. It  was  so  long  since  Mr.  Duncan  had  appeared  in  society  that  a  great  many 
had  forgotten  that  he  was  the  principal  figure  at  the  ball  given  in  honor  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales  in  1860,  and  his  personal  acquaintance  with  the  Duke  of  Con- 
naught  was  of  long  standing.  As  Mr.  Duncan  explained  to  me,  the  Duke  merely 
called  upon  him  as  one  gentleman  would  upon  another  whom  he  had  not  seen  for 
some  time.  Mr.  Duncan's  death  occurred  shortly  after  this  instance,  but  I  was  for- 
tunate enough  to  hear  from  him  a  vivid  and  rather  amusing  account  of  the  great 
ball  which  was  given  in  the  Academy  of  Music  fifty  years  ago  in  honor  of  the 
Prince,  later  King  Edward  VII.  Mr.  Duncan  was  Chairman,  and  Mr.  Peter 
Cooper  was  Master  of  Ceremonies. 

The  names  of  the  society  leaders  in  these  days  are  very  little  different  from 
those  of  the  present  day,  except  that  the  present  list  is  probably  longer.  Mr.  Dun- 
can told  me  the  Prince  danced  first  with  Mrs.  E.  D.  Morgan,  then  wife  of  the 
Governor.  The  other  partners  of  the  Prince,  whose  portraits  are  shown  on  another 
page  in  the  costumes  worn  at  the  time,  were  Mrs.  J.  J.  Astor,  Mrs.  August  Bel- 
mont, Mrs.  G.  T.  Strong,  Mrs.  Edward  Cooper,  Mrs.  J.  P.  Kernochan,  Mrs. 
M.  B.  Field,  Mrs.  F.  M.  Hoyt,  Mrs.  Ogden  Goelet,  Mrs.  Robert  Goelet,  Miss 
Fish,  Miss  Stuyvesant,  Miss  Augusta  Jay,  Miss  Van  Buren,  Miss  Grinnell  and 
Miss  Minturn. 


[  303  ] 


NEW  YORK,  THE  CITY  OF  MAGNIFICENT  IMPERMANENCE 


By  Joseph  P.  Day 

To  describe  New  York  City  of  the  present — that  is,  the  kaleidoscopic  me- 
tropolis of  the  period  around  1912 — frantically  striving  to  accommodate  itself  to 
new  standards  of  living  and  doing  business,  is  very  much  like  trying  to  put  down 
on  paper  an  accurate  description  of  a  complicated  moving  picture  while  the  film  is 
actually  in  motion.  For  New  York  of  the  present  day  truly  is  a  city  of  magnificent 
impermanence.  By  day  and  by  night  old  buildings  are  being  torn  down  and  tow- 
ering new  structures  are  being  erected.  Landmarks  disappear  like  thistledown. 
No  sooner  has  one  skyscraper  earned  the  distinction  of  being  the  highest  inhabited 
building  in  the  world,  than  the  steel  structural  framework  of  another  tower  displays 
the  American  flag  or  the  roof -worker's  tree  still  higher.  Statistics  of  population, 
commerce,  wealth,  industry,  building  activities  are  good  for  but  a  single  day,  for 
every  twenty-four  hours  sees  more  people  and  more  wealth  and  new  industries 
centred  in  New  York's  316  square  miles  of  territory. 

It  is  all  part  of  New  York's  frantic  effort  to  multiply  its  congested  surfaces  in 
Manhattan,  Bronx,  Brooklyn  and  Queens  Boroughs  into  more  levels  on  which  peo- 
ple can  work  and  live,  to  widen  its  sidewalks  and  streets  so  that  its  increasing  pop- 
ulation can  pursue  its  traffic,  to  get  enough  drinking  water  for  its  thirsty  army, 
and  by  bridging  rivers  and  tunneling  streets  and  streams  to  give  access  to  distant 
homes  to  a  tremendous  overflow  of  workers  who  can  find  no  place  to  sleep  and  play 
within  its  crowded  limits. 

Even  the  surface  of  our  streets  is  no  longer  considered  a  permanent  plane.  In 
several  sections  they  are  debating  making  streets  two  stories  in  height,  and  those 
who  are  building  on  the  old  Equitable  site  find  they  must  provide  a  new  under- 
ground street  or  arcade  to  their  building  simply  because  there  is  not  room  at  the 
crowded  hours  in  Broadway  and  narrow  Nassau  Street  for  all  who  must  have  ac- 
cess to  its  thirty  square  blocks  of  business  space.  Many  men  have  left  their  homes 
in  the  morning,  walking  on  smooth  concrete  or  asphalt  pavement,  only  to  return 
at  night  by  a  devious  road,  over  the  wooden  shoring  roof  of  a  new  subway  excava- 
tion. The  suburban  passenger  arrives  in  the  morning  at  one  section  of  the 
Grand  Central  Depot  and  on  returning  at  night  finds  that  section  being  demolished 
to  make  way  for  the  new  depot,  and  that  he  must  take  his  train  two  or  three  blocks 
away  in  a  temporary  terminal.  He  may  ride  through  the  streets  in  the  morning  in 
an  ordinary  trolley  car  and  at  night  find  that  the  company  has  provided  a  new 
stepless  two-story  car  accommodating  over  twice  as  many  people. 

A  witty  visitor,  seeing  the  everlasting  litter  of  building  in  almost  every  street 
in  the  city,  said  of  New  York:  "I  think  it  will  be  a  fine  place  when  it  is  finished." 
Shrewdly  he  struck  the  keynote  of  modern  New  York.    But  it  will  never  be  fin- 

[  304  ] 


fcarlti  Sapid  transit  on  (grrrnuiirh  £»trrrt 


THIS  PICTURE  SHOWS  THE  FIRST  SUCCESSFUL  ELEVATED  RAILROAD 
IN  1869.  AND  THE  PROGENITOR  OF  ALL  OUR  TROLLEYS.  SUBWAYS 
AND  TUBES.  IT  RAN  ON  GREENWICH  STREET  FROM  30th  STREET 
TO  THE  BATTERY.  AND  WAS  FIRST  OPERATED  BY  DRUM  CABLES 
STEAM  WAS  A  LATER  INTRODUCTION.  IT  WAS  NOT  A  FINANCIAL 
SUCCESS  ITSELF.  BUT  IT  DEMONSTRATED  THE  PRACTICABILITY  OF 
THE  IDEA  AND  WAS  FOLLOWED  SOON  AFTER  BY  THE  NINTH  AND 
THIRD  AVENUE  ROADS. 

RAPID  TRANSIT  HAD  ALWAYS  BEEN  A  SERIOUS  PROBLEM  FOR  NEW 
YORK.  AND  THE  SEVERAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  WE  SHOW  PROVE  THAT 
IT  OCCUPIED  THE  MINDS  OF  OUR  PEOPLE  MANY  YEARS  BEFORE 
ITS  FINAL  SOLUTION. 

THE  GREENWICH  STREET  LINE  PAVED  THE  WAY  FOR  A  SYSTEM 
THAT  BECAME  A  TREMENDOUS  SUCCESS.  AND  IS  ENTITLED  TO  A 
MOST  WORTHY  PLACE  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  NEW  YORK'S  LOCAL 
TRANSPORTATION. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MISS  KATHERINE  M  BROWN. 


Beginning  of  Skyscrapers 


ished.  New  Yorkers  during  the  last  decade  have  given  up  all  idea  that  human  in- 
telligence and  engineering  skill  can  plan  a  structure  that  will  have  a  really  perma- 
nent place  on  Manhattan  Island.  When  we  speak  of  a  "tax-payer"  we  think  of  a 
temporary  one-story  brick  building  providing  stores  enough  to  meet  the  carrying 
charges  on  the  land.  The  careful  analyst,  however,  is  surprised  to  find  that  many 
imposing  structures  in  important  districts  are  erected  purely  as  temporary  struc- 
tures by  owners  who  want  to  see  which  way  the  real  estate  cat  will  jump  in  that 
section.  Moreover,  in  many  of  the  newer  buildings,  the  engineers  have  put  in 
foundations  and  steel  structural  work  capable  of  supporting  far  higher  buildings 
than  have  been  erected,  with  the  idea  that  when  the  time  comes  another  half  dozen 
or  dozen  stories  may  be  added  to  meet  the  demand  for  space. 

The  first  great  blow  to  the  idea  of  having  permanent  landmarks  in  New  York 
came  in  1888,  when  the  first  steel-skeleton  buildings  were  put  up  at  50  Broadway 
and  later  at  39  and  41  Cortlandt  Street,  the  latter  building  being  the  J.  Monroe 
Taylor  Building.  At  that  time  these  twelve-story  buildings,  rising  chimney-like, 
made  them  one  of  the  sights  of  New  York.  These  buildings  started  the  idea  of 
multiplying  Manhattan  land  space  into  upper  layers,  and  it  but  waited  for  the 
development  of  the  rapid  service  elevator  to  make  this  habit  epidemic  in  apart- 
ments as  well  as  in  business  buildings. 

Our  Dutch  forebears  who  built  their  quaint  brick  homes  and  shops  about 
Fraunces'  Tavern,  or  the  later  generations  that  thought  City  Hall  the  end  of  habit- 
able Manhattan  and  backed  it  with  cheap  stone,  had  no  thought  that  there  would 
ever  be  a  scarcity  of  land  between  the  two  rivers.  One  can  see  every  day,  as  the 
wreckers  tear  down  these  historic  old  residences,  how  their  original  builders  chose 
solid  material  and  honest  masonry  because  they  thought  they  were  building  for  all 
time.  Even  the  shrewd  original  Astor  with  his  land  hunger  cannot  be  credited  with 
foreseeing  a  Manhattan  of  many  levels ;  he  simply  realized  that  land  on  that  island 
was  limited  and  some  day  would  come  into  demand  for  houses,  mansions  and  shops. 
The  very  fact  that  the  patriotic  societies  are  so  busy  affixing  to  the  walls  of  great 
office  buildings  and  apartment  hotels,  memorial  tablets  designed  to  mark  for  the 
present  generation  the  site  of  this  or  that  building  connected  with  American  his- 
tory, is  proof  enough  that  New  York  is  far  too  busy  providing  for  the  present  to 
leave  the  past  any  natural  foothold  on  Manhattan  Island.  City  Hall  for  a  long 
time  was  the  only  building  which  promised  to  survive  the  skyscraper  fever  and  even 
here  there  was  a  battle  between  those  whose  god  is  efficiency  and  those  who  revere 
art  and  the  traditions  and  achievements  of  a  bygone  century.  By  purely  arti- 
ficial or  legislative  means,  Fraunces'  Tavern,  the  Jumel  Mansion  uptown,  and  one 
or  two  similar  sites  and  buildings  have  been  snatched  from  architectural  evolution 
and  preserved  as  parks  or  public  museums.  Lovers  of  history  are  hoping  that  the 
land  these  occupy  may  not  one  day  become  so  valuable  that  some  iconoclastic  city 
administration  will  move  them  bodily  to  Central  Park,  which  is  coming  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  sort  of  architectural  and  sociological  catch-all.  Within  the  last  few  years 
there  have  been  several  different  schemes  for  taking  the  ground  of  Central  Park 
from  the  people  in  order  to  provide  buildings  for  societies  whose  activities,  however 


[  307  ] 


Height  Limited  by  Cost 


good,  appeal  only  to  certain  limited  classes.  Such  plans  have  been  advanced  and 
defeated  only  after  bitter  controversy.  If  it  were  possible  to  re-enact  the  American 
Revolution  on  a  modern  scale,  there  is  little  doubt  that  Fraunces'  Tavern  would 
probably  follow  the  precedent  of  the  Astor  and  Lenox  Libraries  and  be  commo- 
diously  located  in  a  more  convenient  and  stylish  up-town  hotel. 

Apparently,  however,  a  limit  in  the  upward  multiplication  of  Manhattan  has 
been  reached, — not  because  the  engineers  are  unwilling  or  unable  to  build  edifices 
higher  than  the  Woolworth  Building,  but  because,  in  terms  of  the  almighty  dollar, 
it  is  not  found  profitable  to  rent  space  above  certain  levels.  It  costs  too  much  to 
carry  and  set  brick  and  building  material  so  far  from  the  earth;  it  costs  too  much 
to  lift  people  in  elevators  a  seventh  of  a  mile;  too  much  money  has  to  be  charged 
off  to  the  indirect  advertising  that  may  come  from  owning  the  highest  building  in 
the  world.  Every  one  supposed  that  the  purchasers  of  the  Equitable  site  would 
straightway  try  to  out-top  the  Woolworth  Building.  Instead,  they  have  decided 
to  build  only  thirty-six  stories  and  will  content  themselves  with  having  the  largest 
floor  area  under  a  single  roof.  Strangely  enough,  however,  it  is  historic  New  Am- 
sterdam, which  we  are  striving  so  hard  to  forget  and  obliterate,  which  has  put 
the  surest  limit  on  the  number  and  height  of  our  skyscrapers.  In  planning  their 
streets,  the  original  settlers  had  no  idea  of  the  traffic  that  one  day  would  have  to  use 
them. 

Even  Broadway  is  far  too  narrow  and  gives  neither  sidewalk  space  enough 
for  pedestrians  nor  street  surface  enough  for  cars  and  vehicles  that  now  attempt  to 
use  it.  These  narrow  downtown  streets  were  all  right  for  the  inhabitants  of  three 
and  four-story  dwellings  and  for  the  business  done,  in  street  level  shops.  But  when 
one  block  is  multiplied  into  thirty  square  blocks  of  space  and  its  denizens  must 
pass  in  the  narrow  roadway,  street  traffic  becomes  a  problem.  Already  the  city 
has  been  compelled  to  force  owners  to  remove  porticos  and  pillars  from  the  fronts 
of  their  buildings  because  on  Broadway  and  Fifth  Avenue  they  trespass  on  a  few 
square  feet  of  precious  sidewalk  space.  At  great  expense,  Broadway's  street  bed 
has  been  widened  a  few  feet  to  make  room  for  vehicles,  and  there  is  talk  of  cut- 
ting off  big  slices  of  buildings  to  make  such  streets  as  Fifty-ninth  Street  wider, 
just  as  Centre  and  Lafayette  Streets  were  widened.  It  follows  that  buildings 
cannot  accommodate  more  people  than  can  make  their  way  to  them  by  means  of 
the  street.  So  the  proverbial  cows,  said  to  have  laid  out  certain  downtown  streets, 
have  called  a  halt  on  our  twentieth  century  engineers.  It  is  doubtful,  therefore,  if 
the  present  generation  will  see  anything  higher  than  the  Woolworth,  7 50  feet,  or 
one-seventh  of  a  mile  above  street  level.  Still,  history  may  repeat  itself  and  the 
year  2012  may  see  the  Equitable  Building  torn  down  to  give  way  to  a  hundred 
and  fifty  story  structure  with  a  transatlantic  aeroplane  station  on  its  roof. 

THE  ERA  OF  LIFE  IN  LAYERS 

The  increase  in  floor  capacity  for  business  purposes  followed  the  natural  de- 
mand for  more  room  for  more  workers  to  carry  on  New  York's  $2,000,000,000  of 


[  308  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H.  C.  BROWN. 


SUitttrlaniirr  S'ugar  i^ousr,  1TB3 

CORNER  OF  ROSE.  DUANE  AND  WILLIAM  STREETS.  USED  AS  A 
PRISON  BY  THE  BRITISH  DURING  THE  REVOLUTION 

FROM    THE   COLLECTION    OF   MR.  LISPENARD  STEWART 


New  York's  Expensive  Parks 


manufactures  and  her  outgoing  and  incoming  commerce  of  over  $1,700,000,000. 
This  in  turn  forced  the  city  to  face  the  problem  of  how  and  where  to  provide 
homes  for  these  workers  and  their  families  and  to  supply  means  of  getting  them 
quickly  and  cheaply  from  those  homes  to  their  places  of  business.  The  multiplica- 
tion table  was  again  brought  into  play.  The  old-fashioned  home  with  its  one 
family  to  a  roof  and  its  bit  of  grass  plot  in  the  back  was  wholly  inadequate.  They 
tried  first  that  greatest  of  outrages,  the  elimination  of  the  grass  plot.  They  hud- 
dled dwellings  side  by  side,  and  when  this  did  not  answer,  began  to  build  inside 
rookeries  in  the  middles  of  the  blocks.  Modern  sanitation  has  been  at  great  trouble 
to  get  rid  of  these.  Then  came  the  flat  house,  gradually  getting  higher  and  higher, 
crowding  more  people  on  to  a  single  lot  than  the  city's  health  could  endure.  There 
were  lightless  and  airless  rooms,  windows  looking  out  merely  on  cracks  between 
buildings,  horrible  interior  conditions,  which  made  these  tenements  breeding  places 
for  tuberculosis  and  defective  children,  both  terrible  charges  against  the  mainte- 
nance funds  of  the  city,  state,  and  nation.  Then  the  laws  prohibited  such  practices 
and  forced  changes  in  the  old  rookeries.  As  a  result  there  were  better  flats  but 
higher  rents. 

But  the  city  had  waited  too  long — whole  square  miles  of  territory  had  been 
filled  with  buildings  huddled  solid  along  canon-like  streets.  For  miles  there  was 
not  a  single  breathing  place  for  the  people.  Then  at  the  cost  of  many  millions, 
the  city  had  to  buy  valuable  property  and  turn  it  into  small  parks  to  get  rid  of  such 
sections  as  Five  Points  and  Mulberry  Bend.  A  little  foresight  would  have  en- 
abled the  city  to  purchase  such  parks  for  thousands  where  they  had  to  pay  millions. 
To-day  a  wiser  policy  leads  the  city  to  purchase  park  space  in  outlying  and  grow- 
ing districts  before  congestion  sends  land  values  upward. 

In  many  other  directions  the  city  also  failed  to  anticipate  its  wonderful  growth. 
For  many  years  it  was  necessary  to  rent  office  space  to  accommodate  the  army  of 
municipal  employees  which  overflowed  little  City  Hall.  Finally  the  municipal 
government  erected  the  wonderful  Municipal  Building,  on  Chambers  Street,  to 
furnish  work-room  enough  for  the  various  public  bureaus.  With  the  new  Hall  of 
Records,  this  new  home  of  local  government  forms  a  beautiful  background  for 
historic  City  Hall  and  thus  brings  into  sharp  contrast  the  architectural  methods 
of  a  bygone  era  and  those  of  modern  New  York  with  its  upward  tendencies. 
Later  this  group  will  be  supplemented  by  the  remarkable  circular  Court  House. 
When  the  great  Civic  Centre  immediately  to  the  north  is  carried  out,  this  group  of 
buildings,  old  and  new,  will  transform  the  region  about  the  bridge  entrance  from 
a  heterogeneous  and  ugly  huddle  of  buildings  into  one  of  the  finest  municipal 
neighborhoods  in  the  world. 

The  public  schools,  which  now  accommodate  over  700,000  children  and  offer 
a  complete  free  education  from  kindergarten  through  college  (in  the  497  elemen- 
tary schools,  twenty-one  high  schools,  three  training  schools,  and  two  colleges), 
likewise  have  had  to  follow  the  layer  plan  in  order  to  take  care  of  the  children.  As 
it  is,  over  40,000  pupils  are  without  seats,  and  this  means  that  twice  that  number, 
or  more  than  80,000,  have  only  part-time  instruction.    This  is  in  spite  of  the  fact 


[311] 


Luxurious  Apartments  and  Hotels 


that  New  York's  schools  are  many  stories  higher  than  those  in  most  cities.  So  great 
is  the  need  for  indoor  accommodations  that  many  of  these  schools  have  play- 
grounds on  the  roof,  as  ground  for  playing  purposes  cannot  be  spared  in  the 
crowded  districts.  The  schools  also  must  cope  with  another  feature  of  this  imperma- 
nent city — the  tendency  of  the  population  to  shift  and  of  residence  and  tenement  dis- 
tricts to  change  into  business  or  factory  regions.  No  sooner  are  enough  schools 
provided  in  certain  districts  than  the  population  frequently  migrates  to  another 
neighborhood  and  overcrowds  other  schoolhouses.  And  by  the  time  the  Board  of 
Education  has  met  the  new  congestion,  another  shift  increases  the  part-time 
classes  elsewhere.  In  many  neighborhoods  in  lower  Manhattan,  old  schoolhouses 
are  being  abandoned  because  change  in  neighborhood  has  driven  out  the  children. 

Meanwhile  the  very  rich,  taking  their  example  from  the  very  poor,  also  decided 
it  was  nice  to  huddle.  This,  and  the  value  of  land  in  desirable  neighborhoods,  re- 
sulted in  the  modern  luxurious  elevator  apartments  and  family  hotels,  which  have 
unfortunately  come  to  be  typical  of  New  York  home  life,  if  indeed  this  all-night 
city  may  be  said  to  have  any  such  thing  as  a  home  existence.  In  these  palaces  of 
convenience,  where  Santa  Claus  arrives  via  a  steam  radiator,  people  pay  yearly  ren- 
tals up  to  twenty  thousand  dollars  per  annum,  and  sometimes  more,  without  hav- 
ing a  single  foot  of  grass  plot  or  flower  bed  that  they  can  really  call  their  own. 

Whether  the  provision  of  luxurious  apartments  and  hotels  caused  a  new  and 
peculiar  standard  of  living  or  the  new  standard  of  living  led  to  the  provision  of 
these  layer  residences  it  is  hard  to  say.  Possibly  both  worked  together ;  but,  what- 
ever the  cause,  certain  it  is  that  many  New  Yorkers  lead  and  seem  to  like  a  type 
of  life  unlike  that  anywhere  else  in  civilization.  To  live  in  a  real  home  is  to  be  old- 
fashioned;  to  have  a  personal  latch  and  door-step  is  to  be  archaic.  And  many  are 
coming  to  believe  that  to  have  food  cooked  in  one's  own  kitchen  and  served  in  one's 
own  dining-room  by  one's  own  servants  is  to  lose  caste.  The  result  is  a  most  amaz- 
ing succession  of  hotels  de  luxe,  the  Ritz,  the  Vanderbilt,  the  McAlpin,  the  Bilt- 
more,  the  Belmont,  etc.  True,  New  York's  transient  population  is  upward  of  one 
hundred  thousand  a  day,  but  these  alone  do  not  support  the  hundreds  of  hotels. 
Homeless  New  Yorkers  make  up  their  great  patronage.  Fortunately,  however, 
there  is  also  a  large  element  in  the  population  determined  to  have  a  grass  plot  and 
to  give  their  families  a  real  home  life  under  a  separate  roof.  The  automobile, 
whatever  its  extravagant  features,  with  its  wider  objective,  taught  some  of  the 
more  wealthy,  who  never  had  really  seen  or  known  the  country,  the  joys  and  ad- 
vantages of  suburban  estates.  At  the  same  time  these  workers  had  to  live  near 
enough  to  Manhattan  or  the  business  sections  of  Brooklyn  to  earn  their  livelihoods 
in  the  commercial  skyscrapers.  Business  could  not  move  to  the  country,  though 
some  firms  have  tried  that ;  so  New  York,  to  get  its  supply  of  labor,  had  to  move  the 
country  nearer  to  Wall  Street  and  the  centres  of  manufacturing  and  retailing. 
There  followed  what  might  be  called  the  transportation  era  of  New  York — a  time 
of  speeding  up  trains  and  ferryboats,  and  this  being  inadequate,  the  building  of  new 
lines  of  transportation  on  the  earth,  over  the  earth,  and  beneath  the  waters  of  the 
earth. 


[312] 


THIS  SHOWS  ONE  OF  THE  STORM  CENTRES  OF  NEW  YORK  DURING 
THE  DRAFT  RIOTS  IN  '63.  BROOKS  BROS  AND  LORD  AND  TAYLOR  S 
STORES  WERE  SACKED  BY  THE  MOB  DURING  ONE  ENGAGEMENT  AND 
MANY  LIVES  LOST. 

AITKEN  SON  ft  CO.  AND  JAMES  McCREERY  ADJOIN  LORD  ft  TAYLOR 
AND  THE  SINGER  SEWING  MACHINE  CO    IS  NEXT  TO  BROOKS'. 
THIS  WAS  THE  POPULAR  HIGH-CLASS  RETAIL  SECTION  DURING  THIS 
PERIOD— 1860-1870. 

FROM    THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  C.  OWEN  WINSTON. 


The  Passenger  Transportation  Problem 


THE  ERA  OF  TRANSPORTATION 

That  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago  there  was  but  a  single  and  inadequate  railroad 
depot  in  Manhattan  and  that  no  great  continental  railroad  had  any  direct  connec- 
tion with  the  vast  and  populous  territory  of  Long  Island  seems  impossible  of  belief . 
With  the  exception  of  the  New  York  Central  and  New  Haven  roads,  however,  all 
the  great  railroads  received  their  passengers  in  antiquated  stations  on  the  Jersey 
shore.  Then  came  the  building  of  the  first  subway,  which  gave  quick  transporta- 
tion to  the  entire  length  of  Manhattan  Island  and  to  the  Van  Courtlandt  Park 
section  on  the  west,  and  opened  up  much  virgin  territory  of  the  Bronx.  The  imme- 
diate result  of  the  opening  of  the  Subway  was  a  period  of  apartment  house  con- 
struction unequalled  in  any  other  city  in  the  world.  Whole  square  miles  of  tall 
and  handsome  flat  buildings  and  elevator  apartments  sprang  up  as  if  by  magic  along 
Riverside  Drive,  Broadway,  Claremont  Avenue,  Amsterdam  Avenue,  and  nearby 
territory:  Hunt's  Point  in  the  Bronx  in  two  or  three  years  was  transformed  from 
a  district  of  run-down  country  estates  into  a  populous  crowded  community  many 
la5Ters  high. 

THE  AGE  OF  UNDERGROUND  HIGHWAYS 

The  Subway,  however,  only  partially  solved  the  problem  of  getting  the  workers 
to  and  from  business.  The  Elevated  Roads  added  a  third  track  to  most  of  the  lines 
and  electrified  the  entire  system.  Then  came  an  epidemic  of  tunnels  and  bridges 
under  and  over  the  rivers.  The  Subway  became  the  Interborough,  by  running  two 
tubes  under  the  East  River  from  Bowling  Green  and  connecting  with  the  Long  Is- 
land Railroad  at  Flatbush  Avenue.  The  McAdoo  system  then  tunneled  the  North 
River  both  at  Cortlandt  and  Christopher  Streets,  providing  four  tracks  to  New 
Jersey  and  connecting  three  great  railroad  systems  in  New  Jersey  with  Cortlandt 
and  Twenty-third  Streets.  At  the  present  writing  the  McAdoo  tunnels  already  are 
connected  with  Thirty-third  Street,  and  are  being  pushed  rapidly  to  Forty-second 
Street  to  give  incoming  passengers  at  the  Grand  Central  a  direct  route  to  New  Jer- 
sey. Meanwhile  another  syndicate  constructed  what  is  known  as  the  Belmont  Tun- 
nel to  Long  Island  City,  but  for  some  reason  it  has  not  as  yet  been  operated. 
In  addition,  bridge  after  bridge  has  been  thrown  across  the  East  River.  Besides 
the  Brooklyn  Bridge  we  now  have  the  Manhattan  Bridge  with  its  Canal  Street 
terminal,  the  Williamsburg  Bridge  with  its  Delancey  Street  terminal,  the  Queens- 
boro  Bridge  with  its  terminal  at  Fifty-ninth  Street,  which  connects  the  Bor- 
ough of  Queens  directly  with  Manhattan.  These  bridges  also  provide  ingress  into 
Manhattan  for  many  lines  of  trolley  cars  from  Brooklyn  and  the  cities  and  towns 
of  Queens.  There  is  also  a  well-defined  project  for  throwing  a  bridge  across  the 
Hudson  from  Fifty-ninth  Street  to  the  Palisades. 

Still,  however,  New  York  had  but  one  great  railroad  terminal,  and  no  great 
railroad  carried  its  passengers  or  freight  into  Long  Island.    For  years  Brooklyn 


[315] 


Surface  and  Underground  Facilities  for  Travel 


enjoyed  the  unique  distinction  of  a  great  city  into  which  not  a  ton  of  long-distance 
freight  was  brought  by  rail. 

The  Pennsylvania  Railroad,  although  its  New  Jersey  depot  was  made  ac- 
cessible by  the  McAdoo  tunnels,  was  not  satisfied  to  be  without  a  terminal  in  the 
heart  of  New  York.  It  also  saw  the  great  possibilities  of  connecting  Long  Island 
with  the  mainland.  Then  began  one  of  the  most  marvellous  pieces  of  engineering 
ever  undertaken.  It  bored  its  tunnel  acrover  the  Bronx  Kills  along  Randall's  Is 
land  and  again  under  the  East  River  to  connect  with  the  Long  Island  Railroad. 
The  outward  and  visible  sign  of  this  undertaking  is  the  magnificent  Pennsylvania 
Station  at  Thirty-third  Street  and  Seventh  Avenue,  one  of  the  finest  railway  ter- 
mini in  the  world. 

The  opening  of  the  Pennsylvania  Station,  the  McAdoo  tunnels  and  the  New 
York,  Westchester  and  Boston  Railroad  has  at  least  temporarily  solved  the  prob- 
lem of  bringing  workers  from  suburban  New  York,  New  Jersey  and  Long  Island. 
The  Interborough  and  local  transportation  problems  are,  however,  far  from  solved, 
and  many  districts  within  the  city  limits  have  been  delayed  in  their  development 
by  the  mere  fact  that  the  existing  elevated  roads,  subways,  trolleys,  and  railroads 
doing  a  local  or  street  to  street  business  are  taxed  to  their  capacity  at  rush  hours 
to  move  people  already  using  their  service.  As  this  is  being  written  work  is  in 
active  progress  on  an  entirely  new  subway  system  which  will  minister  to  the 
boroughs  of  Brooklyn,  Queens,  Manhattan  and  the  Bronx,  and  may,  by  tunnel- 
ing the  Narrows,  even  bring  Staten  Island  within  a  car-ride  of  its  sister  boroughs. 
This  new  subway  system,  which  will  provide  forty-seven  miles  of  road  and  over 
one  hundred  and  forty-four  miles  of  track  is  to  cost  over  one  hundred  and  forty- 
seven  million  dollars.  The  most  recent  of  the  great  transportation  monuments  to 
be  opened  for  use  is  the  new  Grand  Central  Depot — a  rival  in  beauty,  size  and 
convenience  of  the  Pennsylvania  Station.  Like  the  Pennsylvania,  the  New  York 
Central  Railroad  is  using  the  scores  of  square  blocks  of  territory  it  occupies  with 
its  underground  tracks  for  the  erection  of  huge  business  and  exhibition  buildings, 
hotels  and  post-offices.  The  New  York  Central  has  six-tracked  its  lines  beyond 
138th  Street  in  preparation  for  a  great  terminal  in  Morrisania  to  connect  with 
the  new  Lexington  Avenue  Subway  and  possibly  to  provide  a  direct  suburban  ex- 
tension that  will  run  trains  from  Wall  Street  through  to  Connecticut. 

Tapping  the  New  Haven  system  at  various  points  and  connecting  with  the 
Bronx  Subway  and  the  new  tri-borough  route  is  the  new  New  York,  Westchester 
and  Boston  line,  which  not  only  gives  a  new  route  to  the  cities  of  Mount  Vernon 
and  New  Rochelle,  but  opens  up  thousands  of  acres  of  desirable  home-sites  to  the 
workers  of  New  York.  The  New  Haven  road  is  building  a  great  bridge  carry- 
ing four  tracks  across  a  span  of  one  thousand  feet  from  the  Bronx  at  142nd  Street 
over  the  Bronx  Kills  along  Randall's  Island  to  Little  Hell  Gate,  and  thence  to 
Ward's  Island  and  across  Hell  Gate  to  Long  Island.  This  great  freight  artery 
will  connect  with  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  at  the  Sunnyside,  L.  I.,  yards  and  at 
various  other  points,  tap  the  easterly  part  of  Queens,  touch  the  ocean  front  at 
Canarsie  and  have  a  terminal  directly  on  New  York  Bay  at  Sixty-fifth  Street, 


[316] 


ttirainuina  of  Sruartutrnt  &tarPH 


IN  1853  ROWLAND  H  MACY  OPENED  HIS  FANCY  DRY-GOODS  STORE 
AT  204  SIXTH  AVENUE.  AFTERWARDS  HE  MOVED  TO  THE  CORNER 
OF  14th  STREET.  HERE  MACY  ENLARGED  ON  THE  ORIGINAL  STEWART 
IDEA,  ADDING  COMMODITIES  THAT  WERE  NOT  STRICTLY  DRY  GOODS. 
BUT  WHICH  COULD  BE  HANDLED  IN  THE  SAME  WAY.  AND  TO  THE 
ADVANTAGE  OF  HIS  TRADE. 

THE  IDEA  SOON  BECAME  GENERAL  AND  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  WHAT 
BECAME  KNOWN  AS  THE  DEPARTMENT  STORE  '  HAS  NOW  REACHED 
COLOSSAL  PROPORTIONS.  AS  A  LOOK  AT  THE  HUGE  STORES  IN 
VARIOUS  STREETS  IN  OUR  CITY  WILL  AMPLY  DEMONSTRATE. 

FROM   THE   COLLECTION   OF  MR.  JESSE  STRAUS 


Looking  Forwabd  :  The  Ashokan  Dam 


Brooklyn.  This  gives  the  New  Haven  road  a  direct  connection  with  Long  Island, 
and  this  new  transportation  will  undoubtedly  affect  the  industrial  growth  of  the 
borough.  It  also  gives  the  New  Haven  road  a  seaboard  terminal  in  New  York 
Harbor. 

But  no  matter  to  what  degree  the  railroad  freight-carrying  facilities  are  devel- 
oped, New  York  must  always  depend  to  a  large  extent  on  ship-carried  supplies. 
At  this  particular  time  the  city  is  regretting  deeply  its  old  policy  of  selling  out- 
right its  water  front  and  docks  and  piers.  A  new  problem,  moreover,  has  been 
offered  by  the  fact  that  the  great  liners  are  now  a  thousand  feet  in  length  and 
cannot  be  berthed  in  the  old  docks.  At  the  same  time  New  York,  with  altogether 
inadequate  landing  facilities,  must  provide  for  the  huge  barge  traffic  which  will  fol- 
low the  opening  of  the  new  State  canal  and  also  be  prepared  to  receive  any  in- 
crease in  shipping  which  will  result  from  the  Panama  Canal.  Already  the  city  is 
considering  Jamaica  Bay  as  a  new  terminal  possibility  and  is  dredging  channels 
to  its  confines  and  planning  a  canal  back  of  Coney  Island  to  connect  it  with  the 
harbor. 

THE  WATER  SUPPLY 

As  Kipling  has  pointed  out  in  "Kim,"  a  city  cannot  harbor  an  army  whose 
thirst  is  beyond  the  capacity  of  its  wells  to  quench.  The  present  system,  even 
with  the  new  high-pressure  auxiliary  which  uses  salt  river  water  instead  of  drink- 
ing water  for  fires,  is  completely  outgrown.  To  supply  this  water  New  York  is 
now  completing  another  of  the  greatest  engineering  feats  ever  undertaken.  Again, 
like  so  many  of  New  York's  undertakings,  the  local  evidences  of  the  work  are 
underground.  In  the  Catskill  Mountains  the  city  has  secured  the  Ashokan  reser- 
voir, twelve  square  miles  in  area,  one  hundred  and  ninety  feet  deep  and  five  hun- 
dred and  ninety  feet  above  sea  level.  This  reservoir  will  collect  from  a  watershed 
of  four  hundred  and  eighteen  square  miles,  to  which  can  be  added  two  other  water- 
sheds which  will  make  the  total  collection  of  rainfall  extend  over  eight  hundred 
and  twenty-two  square  miles  of  territory.  To  do  this  the  city  has  had  to  buy  and 
remove  all  traces  of  large  thriving  towns  and  hamlets.  The  water  will  be  brought 
from  the  Catskill  Mountains  to  the  city  in  an  aqueduct  ninety-two  miles  long  and 
varying  in  size  from  a  horseshoe  seventeen  feet  high  and  seventeen  feet  six  inches 
wide  to  distributing  tunnels  in  the  city,  fifteen  to  eleven  feet  in  diameter.  This 
will  add  five  hundred  million  gallons  a  day  to  the  five  hundred  and  fifty-three 
million  and  over  supplied  by  the  present  public  water  systems  and  certain  private 
water  companies. 

All  of  these  magnificent  examples  of  engineering  skill  have  been  designed 
with  a  view  to  caring  for  New  York's  population  of  nearly  five  millions,  and  be- 
cause New  York  is  now  using  more  foresight  and  less  hindsight  and  possesses  a 
better  understanding  of  its  inevitable  growth. 

Figures  of  population  in  New  York  are  good  only  for  a  day,  as  the  birth  rate, 


[319] 


Growth  of  Population  and  Property 


the  incoming  immigrant  steamers,  and  every  train  bring  new  people  to  find  homes 
and  work  within  its  boundaries.  In  1912,  to  be  exact,  this  great  city  supported 
a  population  estimated  at  more  than  5,076,000.  But  these  figures  do  not  at  all 
include  the  transient  hotel  population  of  over  one  hundred  thousand,  nor  the  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  people  who  have  their  places  of  business  within  New  York 
and  reside  in  New  Jersey,  Connecticut,  and  beyond  the  city  limits  in  New  York 
State.  It  does  not  count  the  thousands  on  thousands  of  out-of-town  shoppers  or 
business  men  who  each  week  do  business  in  the  metropolis.  If  it  were  possible 
suddenly  to  count  every  soul  in  New  York  City  at  a  given  noon  hour  it  is  probable 
that  its  population  would  be  close  to  six  millions.  Of  the  steady  population  little 
Manhattan  grows  into  its  flats  or  apartments  over  2,400,000  people,  or  nearly 
fifty  per  cent,  of  the  city's  entire  population.  In  other  words,  nearly  half  of  the 
people  live  in  twenty-one  and  nine-tenths  square  miles  or  about  seven  per  cent,  of 
its  total  area  of  316  square  miles.  These  people,  exclusive  of  parks,  churches, 
public  buildings,  and  other  exempt  institutions,  own  and  use  land  and  buildings 
worth  over  $7,858,000,000.  Their  personal  taxable  belongings  are  assessed  at 
nearly  $358,000,000.  The  value  of  their  real  estate  increases  about  $200,000,000 
a  year,  due  in  part  to  better  transportation  and  increased  population,  but  largely 
attributable  to  the  fact  that  New  York  builds  so  rapidly.  For  example,  in  1909 
New  York  City  reported  the  construction  of  $181,000,000  worth  of  fire-resisting 
buildings,  which,  of  course,  does  not  include  the  frame  dwellings  or  suburban 
homes. 

These  figures  do  not  mean,  however,  that  every  district  has  increased  in 
value.  The  tendency  of  business  to  shift  is  quite  as  marked  if  not  as  rapid  as  the 
migratory  habit  of  the  population.  Business,  too,  has  its  new  standards  of  living, 
and  now  demands  far  more  luxurious  offices  and  show-rooms.  In  1912  New  York 
is  still  undergoing  one  of  the  most  remarkable  shifts  of  business  known  on  this 
continent.  Fourth  Avenue  has  become  a  region  of  magnificent  loft  buildings,  and 
into  these  have  moved  thousands  of  silk,  clothing,  haberdashery  and  novelty  manu- 
facturers who  had  been  considered  fixtures  in  the  district  along  Broadway  north  of 
Canal  Street.  This  removal  has  left  the  old  district  practically  tenantless,  and 
while  it  has  increased  the  value  of  real  estate  uptown  it  has  left  block  after  block 
downtown  not  worth  its  assessed  valuation. 

To  give  employment  to  its  population,  New  York,  in  addition  to  its  banks, 
offices,  wholesale  and  retail  houses,  supports  over  26,000  factories.  Few  think  of 
it  as  a  great  manufacturing  town,  and  yet  in  1909  its  factories  employed  over 
661,000  people  to  whom  it  paid  over  $445,000,000  in  wages.  These  factories  have 
a  capital  of  over  $1,000,000,000,  and  in  the  process  of  manufacturing  add  to  that 
material  nearly  $940,000,000  of  value.  This  is  an  increase  in  the  total  value  of 
the  products  of  over  $500,000,000  in  five  years.  Analysis  of  the  figures  of  export 
and  import  shows  that  nearly  a  billion  of  goods  and  gold  enters  the  port  of  New 
York,  with  exports  of  over  three-quarters  of  a  billion  each  year,  and  that  well 
toward  one  billion  dollars'  worth  of  goods  finds  retail  outlet  through  its  agencies. 


[  320  ] 


HERE  IS  AN  EXCELLENT  VIEW  OF  PRINTING  HOUSE  SQUARE  IN 
THE  DAYS  OF  GREELEY.  DANA.  RAYMOND  AND  JONES.  THE  AMERI- 
CAN TRACT  SOCIETY  OCCUPIED  THE  BUILDING.  CORNER  OF  NASSAU 
AND  SPRUCE  STREETS  THE  POST  OFFICE  WAS  NOT  YET  BUILT 
AND  THE  VIEW  TO  ST  PAUL  S  CHURCH  WAS  UNOBSTRUCTED.  THIS 
PICTURE  WAS  TAKEN  IN  1862,  WHEN  TROOPS  WERE  LEAVING  EVERY 
DAY  FOR  THE  WAR.  EVERY  BUILDING  SAVE  THE  "SUN"  HAS  SINCE 
BEEN  TORN  DOWN  AND  REPLACED  WITH  SKYSCRAPERS. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF   MR.  SIMEON  FORtt 


SlltH  3slanU  aa  a  Pmn&rr  JHagaEtnr,  1SBB 


New  York's  Real  Benevolence 


But  with  all  this  bustle  of  money-making,  the  whir  of  factory  wheels,  the  hurry 
spirit,  the  frantic  searching  for  new  sensations,  and  amusements  that  will  give 
surcease  from  business,  New  York  still  has  a  heart  and  an  artistic  sense.  Its  sky- 
line high  in  the  air,  by  some  considered  of  imperial  beauty,  by  others  as  a  hideous 
sign  of  oppression,  is  nevertheless  made  up  of  roofs  which  house  much  the  same 
sort  of  people  that  are  to  be  found  the  world  over.  In  spite  of  its  dollar-making 
scramble,  it  finds  time  to  build  and  support  many  marvellous  hospitals,  to  main- 
tain great  art  museums,  to  enjoy  opera,  to  endow  great  colleges,  and  to  carry  on 
innumerable  charities.  Perhaps  the  people  of  New  York  do  not  think  as  long  a  time 
about  the  brotherhood  of  man  as  they  do  in  other  less  frenzied  atmospheres.  But 
New  Yorkers  are  quick  thinkers ;  and  thought  is  quickly  made  tangible  by  action. 
It  is  easy  to  denominate  the  biggest  city  as  the  wickedest  city.  Evil  is  always 
more  patent  than  the  commonplace  good.  If  one  would  only  take  the  trouble  to 
get  at  the  real  facts  he  would  find  in  New  York  just  as  large  a  percentage  of 
folks  who  are  earnest  and  valuable  Americans  as  anywhere  else,  and  would  prob- 
ably discover  to  his  amazement  that  New  York  had  somehow  found  time  to  con- 
tribute more  that  is  valuable  in  scientific,  artistic  and  sociological  ways  to  the 
state  and  nation  and  world  than  any  other  commonwealth  of  the  earth;  but  all 
of  this  does  not  deter  it  from  being  New  York,  the  City  of  Magnificent  Im- 
permanence. 

THE  FIRST  FLAT 

The  Victoria  Hotel,  which  is  destined  to  disappear  soon,  was  first  built  by 
Paran  Stevens  as  a  "French  flat"  of  the  kind  that  were  then  so  popular  in  Paris. 
Almost  simultaneously  another  French  flat  was  put  up  on  the  southwest  corner  of 
Fourteenth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue.  The  Stevens  building  was  experimental  and 
intended  to  test  the  desire  of  New  Yorkers  for  expensive  homes  of  this  novel  kind. 
As  the  result  showed,  the  erection  of  a  building  in  which  the  flats  cost  so  much  was 
premature  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  building  was  converted  into  a  hotel.  It 
has  remained  that  ever  since.  Its  architecture  is  a  copy  of  the  style  used  in  Paris 
for  the  first  of  the  modern  apartment  houses  built  there  toward  the  close  of  the 
Second  Empire. 

The  apartment  house  farther  down  on  Fifth  Avenue  fared  better.  It  was 
indeed  pulled  down  only  a  few  years  ago  to  make  way  for  a  loft  building.  Long 
before  that  time  it  had  ceased  to  serve  for  dwelling  purposes  and  had  been  housing 
only  offices.  Its  name  is  perpetuated  to  this  day  in  a  large  flat  house  on  Fifth 
Avenue. 


[323] 


1 


PRINTS  OF  OLD  NEW  YORK  AND  THEIR  COLLECTORS 

By  J.  H.  Jordan 

The  recent  sale  of  a  newly  discovered  copy  of  the  famous  print  of  New  York 
by  William  Burgis  for  the  stupendous  sum  of  $20,000  has  aroused  the  keenest 
interest  among  collectors  in  this  field,  and  while  the  price  is  simply  astounding,  its 
effect  upon  all  other  collections  has  been  stimulating  and  reassuring.  It  proves 
conclusively  that  the  market  for  rare  prints  of  old  New  York  is  constantly  ad- 
vancing, and  that  the  rapidly  diminishing  supply  insures  a  permanent  and  en- 
hancing value. 

The  extraordinary  advance  in  the  price  of  the  Burgis  is  not  an  exception.  The 
Tiebout  view  of  Federal  Hall  at  its  last  sale  brought  $3,000,  but  only  a  few  years 
ago  the  Luncheon  Club  procured  one  of  the  very  few  other  known  copies  for  about 
$100.  A  complete  set  of  Stephenson's  is  now  worth  about  $20,000,  although  it  is 
probable  they  may  have  been  purchased  for  less  than  $500  not  so  very  long  ago.  It 
all  depends  on  the  scarcity  of  the  subject  and  the  condition  of  the  print. 

I  have  been  continually  asked,  "Who  has  the  best  collection  of  old  New  York 
views?"  Twenty  years  ago  I  may  have  said:  "Oh,  Mr.  Crimmins,  Mr.  Eno,  Mr. 
Holden,  Mr.  Halsey,  Mr.  Havemeyer,  Mr.  Andrews,  and  the  New  York  Historical 
Society  all  have  fine  collections;  but  it  would  be  impossible  to  call  any  particular 
one  the  best.  But  to-day  that  list  would  have  to  be  materially  lengthened,  Mr. 
Goelet,  Mr.  Pyne,  Mr.  Stokes,  Mr.  Arnold,  Mr.  Pratt,  Mr.  Colt,  Mr.  Ford,  Mr. 
Golding,  Mr.  Davies,  Mr.  Read,  Mr.  Morgenthau,  Mr.  Dowling,  Mr.  Morgan, 
Mr.  Brown,  being  only  a  few  of  the  names  that  occur  to  me. 

Some  two  years  ago  the  late  Mr.  Neill,  who  was  among  the  first  to  appreciate 
the  value  of  old  views  of  New  York,  asked  me  to  arrange  an  exhibition  of  them  to 
inaugurate  the  opening  of  the  Lawyers'  Title  and  Insurance  Company's  new  build- 
ing. On  presenting  the  suggestion  to  the  gentlemen  just  mentioned,  the  response 
was  so  prompt  and  hearty — some  of  them  writing  from  Florida,  Europe  and  else- 
where to  say  they  had  sent  instructions  that  any  needed  views  would  be  at  my  dis- 
posal— that  eventually  I  selected  580  of  the  rarest  prints,  and  arranged  them  chro- 
nologically from  the  first  known  view,  1651,  to  about  1880.  Except  for  lack  of 
space,  I  might  have  added  another  500  of  less  important  but  equally  interesting 
prints.  These  selections  were  made  from  nearly  forty  different  owners.  So  great 
was  the  success  of  the  exhibition  that  it  was  extended  nearly  two  weeks  longer  than 
was  at  first  contemplated,  and  could  have  been  further  continued  but  for  the  fact 
that  the  room  in  which  the  prints  were  shown  had  been  rented,  and  the  time  was  up. 

Just  before  the  closing  of  the  exhibition  I  made  a  tentative  catalogue  of  the 
prints  before  dispersing  them;  and  in  it  I  described,  more  as  a  check  list  than  other- 


[  324  ] 


i  •  iiaaimii 
lll|lllflill 

■''•»gIl^m..,B;s,,i„.mg( 


HIIIIIII 

iiiiinii  i  8  i 

i ii bib  iii J  a  s 


pA\(ti(\Mn-  \!fw  or  wuuiwat.  rant  rou  city,  ooNiiBtcnn 


THK    V-T-Ilt    HOI  <J 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.    H    C  BROWN 


Early  g»torrfl  of  A.  SI.  §>truiart  on  iHrnaitoiay,  1350  la  13B0 


THE  THREE  SHOPS  ARE  IN  THE  MIDDLE  ROW  AND  ARE  INDICATED 
BY  AN  ARROW. 

THIS  IS  A  PARTICULARLY  INTERESTING  VIEW  OF  BROADWAY  FROM 
THE  ASTOR  HOUSE  TO  WORTH  STREET  AT  THIS  TIME.  AND  IN- 
CLUDES ALL  THE  PROMINENT  FIRMS  OF  THAT  PERIOD.  MR. 
STEWARTS  CAREER.  AND  THAT  OF  HIS  SUCCESSOR.  MR.  JOHN 
WANAMAKER.  ARE  ELSEWHERE  REFERRED  TO  IN  THIS  BOOK.  ONE 
OF  ROGERS  8  BRO.  S  (1849)  SHOPS  IS  IN  THIS  SECTION 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  JOHN  WANAMAKER 


I 


The  Daly  and  Holden  Sales 


wise,  the  prints  which  were  shown  at  the  exhibition.  The  great  public  interest 
displayed  in  the  event  was  an  agreeable  surprise  even  to  me,  though  I  had  kept  in 
touch  with  the  growing  interest  in  the  subject,  and  knew  something  of  what  to  ex- 
pect. It  proved  that  all  the  talk  about  New  Yorkers  not  having  any  affection  for 
the  old  home  was  the  merest  bosh.  There  were  courtesies  extended  to  me  upon  this 
occasion,  and  for  this  exhibition,  which  could  not  be  obtained  for  any  other  pur- 
pose whatever.  The  real  New  Yorker  is  proud  of  the  city — loves  it,  and  treasures 
its  past  history. 

THE  TRIALS  OF  THE  COLLECTOR 

It  is  hard  to  describe  adequately  the  collector  of  old  prints.  The  big-game 
hunter  pursues  his  quarry  with  no  more  enthusiasm — nor,  may  I  add,  at  any  greater 
expense — than  does  the  hunter  of  old  New  York  views.  Oftentimes,  just  as  the 
long  sought  for  prize  is  almost  secured,  a  second  thought,  a  sudden  whim,  and  the 
treasure  is  withheld,  for  any  reason  or  no  reason,  as  the  case  may  be. 

The  reports  in  the  public  press  in  regard  to  the  prices  procured  at  public  auc- 
tion for  some  of  these  views  has  done  a  great  deal  toward  bringing  out  from  their 
hiding  places  many  interesting  old  prints,  and  some  most  amusing  stories  are  told 
in  connection  therewith — particularly  as  to  the  fabulous  value  suddenly  attached  to 
what  had  formerly  been  regarded  as  simply  old  junk.  One  of  these  prints  is  the 
"Broadway  Stages  of  1831"  (a  large  colored  lithograph  by  Pendleton,  one  of  the 
earliest  lithographers  in  New  York).  This  print  is  well  known  by  the  numerous 
reproductions  which  have  been  made  of  it  (in  Valentine's  Manual  there  is  a  splen- 
did lithograph  copy,  about  one-quarter  size,  by  Hayward,  done  in  1861,  and 
folded  in  the  book) ,  but  the  original,  at  the  New  York  Historical  Society,  was  pre- 
sumed to  be  the  only  one  until  the  Daly  Sale  in  1902,  when  another  fine  and  perfect 
copy  was  sold  along  with  numerous  other  rare  New  York  views.  I  bid  $2,200  for 
the  lot  for  Mr.  Holden,  which  was  at  that  time  the  appraised  value.  Mr.  Neill  also 
agreed  as  to  this  price.  Mr.  Eno  bid  $2,220,  and  the  lot  was  knocked  down  to  a 
dealer  for  $2,240.  This  was  the  same  lot  sold  at  the  Daly-Borden  auction  last 
April  for  $22,000.  Here  is  a  concrete  example  of  the  increase  in  values,  nearly  a 
thousand  per  cent,  in  about  ten  years. 

A  third  copy  appeared  in  a  sale  at  Merwin's  in  1911,  in  rather  poor  condition, 
and  pencilled  on  the  lower  margin,  in  the  handwriting  of  a  well-known  old  New 
York  dealer,  was  undoubtedly  his  original  selling  price,  $17.50.  After  much  bid- 
ding, it  was  finally  knocked  down  to  a  dealer  for  the  modest  sum  of  $1,450,  men- 
tion of  which  item  was  made  in  several  of  the  New  York  daily  newspapers,  and 
was  read  by  some  one  in  a  nearby  town,  who  immediately  sat  up  and  took  notice, 
for  only  a  day  or  two  before  an  old  picture  in  his  house  had  fallen  from  the  wall 
and  the  glass  had  been  broken.   Rather  than  go  to  the  trouble  and  expense  of  buy- 


[327  ] 


The  Famous  Burgis  View 


ing  a  new  glass,  he  had  been  offering  to  give  the  picture  away  to  any  one  who  would 
take  it — but  now !  Could  it  be  that  this  newspaper  article  was  describing  the  sale  at 
$1,450  of  an  old  lithograph,  the  same  as  his  despised  one?  Fortunately  for  him, 
he  knew  a  fellow-townsman  who  was  credited  with  having  some  knowledge  of  such 
things,  and,  having  got  him  on  the  telephone  at  once,  his  friend  came  to  see  his 
picture,  and  told  him  it  was  even  so,  and  advised  him  where  he  might  go  and  con- 
vert his  print  into  good  coin  of  the  realm,  which  he  immediately  proceeded  to  do, 
and  returned  home  with  enough  money  to  pay  off  his  mortgage. 

In  another  State  and  in  a  nearby  town  also,  the  same  notice  was  read  by  a 
farmer  who  lay  ill  in  bed;  the  name  of  the  dealer  was  mentioned,  and  the  old  man 
had  a  sister  write  to  him  to  say  that  he  had  one  of  the  same  print,  which  he  would 
like  to  sell.  In  the  meantime  his  doctor  came  to  see  him,  and  he  mentioned  the  mat- 
ter to  him.  The  latter  said  he  knew  of  some  one  in  New  York  who  bought  such 
things,  and  would  send  word  to  him,  which  he  did  by  telephone.  The  doctor's  friend 
arrived  on  the  scene  as  soon  as  possible,  and  finally  offered  $500  for  the  print,  which 
was  refused  by  the  farmer,  saying  that  it  belonged  to  a  brother  in  Philadelphia, 
whom  he  would  have  to  consult,  and  that  it  seemed  to  him  the  offer  was  not  as 
large  as  he  should  get.  Later,  in  came  the  New  York  dealer  to  whom  he  had 
written,  who,  after  seeing  it,  offered  $800  for  it,  which  the  farmer  refused  on  the 
same  grounds.  A  day  or  two  after  the  owner  of  the  picture  died.  His  physician 
telephoned  the  news  to  his  friend,  and  the  next  day  he  appeared  again  at  the  house, 

was  met  by  the  elderly  maiden  sister,  and  asked  for  Mr.  B  ,  expressing  much 

surprise  and  regret  when  informed  of  his  decease.  He  explained  that  he  had  come 

by  appointment  to  conclude  a  business  matter  with  Mr.  B  ,  having  purchased 

a  picture  from  him  for  $500,  and  he  was  now  there  with  the  money  to  get  it.  The 
sister  admitted  that  she  remembered  some  such  negotiation,  but  thought  the  price 
mentioned  was  greater;  however,  she  would  not  stand  in  the  way  of  having  the 
last  wishes  of  her  brother  carried  out,  so  she  took  the  money,  and  the  New  York 
man  took  the  print  from  the  wall  alongside  the  corpse. 

A  little  later  a  sixth  copy  of  this  print,  uncolored,  and  in  very  poor  condition, 
was  sold  at  Merwin's  for  about  $360.  These  are  now  all  owned  by  six  different  col- 
lectors, and  apparently  the  supply  of  them  is  absolutely  exhausted.  At  any  rate, 
if  six  more  should  turn  up,  there  are  six  collectors  waiting  for  the  chance  of  secur- 
ing them. 

The  latest  surprise  among  collectors,  as  first  mentioned,  is  the  acquisition  of 
what  is  really  the  great  piece  de  resistance  known  as  the  Burgis  view  of  New  York, 
engraved  in  New  York  in  1717.  Until  the  present  day,  the  New  York  Historical 
Society  was  the  sole  possessor  of  this  print,  and  also  of  one  of  the  reissue  made  in 
1746,  of  which  there  are  only  three  duplicates  in  very  poor  condition;  but  now  from 
London  comes  this  original  copy  of  1717,  in  the  original  sheets,  uncut  margins  and 
absolutely  perfect.  This  view  measures  six  feet  in  length,  and  was  engraved  on  four 
separate  coppers,  the  prints  when  trimmed  and  joined  together  forming  one  perfect 
picture.   This  is  another  instance  of  the  results  of  the  insistent  demand  on  the  part 

[  328  ] 


COPYRIGHT.  1  91  3.  H    C  BROWN 


®hp  ©lb  Smutrc  Sitiloxng  on  jFirsi  £>itr  of  (grarp  <KijurrI| 


THIS  IS  THE  CORNER  OF  BROADWAY  AND  RECTOR  STREET  IN  1868. 
AT  THE  TIME  IT  WAS  OCCUPIED  BY  MAJOR  ft  KNAPP,  ONE  OF 
THE  EARLIEST  LITHOGRAPHERS  IN  THIS  CITY.  MR.  JOSEPH  F 
KNAPP  OF  THIS  FIRM.  WITH  MR  JOHN  R,  HEGEMAN.  FOUNDED  THE 
METROPOLITAN  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPANY. 


Maverick,  Bornet  and  Megarey 


of  collectors  for  what  they  want.  Of  course,  the  value  of  such  a  print  as  this  is  un- 
limited in  a  way,  as  there  is  no  likelihood  of  any  other  copy  ever  turning  up. 

OTHER  FAMOUS  VIEWS  IN  THIS  BOOK 

The  view  of  Wall  Street  from  Broadway  (1825),  printed  in  this  book,  is  an- 
other instance  of  the  increase  in  the  value  of  such  prints.  This  is  a  lithograph  by 
Peter  Maverick,  known  as  one  of  the  best  early  American  engravers  (the  Bridges 
map  was  engraved  by  him) .  It  is  a  winter  scene ;  Admiral  Decatur  is  the  personage 
in  the  sleigh  in  the  foreground,  on  Broadway;  this  view  of  Wall  Street  is  the  best 
general  view  we  have  of  that  period.  As  originally  made,  it  was  enclosed  in  a  bor- 
der of  vignette  views  of  each  building  on  the  south  side,  the  north  side,  and  across 
the  top  a  view  of  the  East  River  and  Brooklyn  beyond. 

Mr.  Crimmins  and  Mr.  Stevens  had  the  only  known  copies  of  this  print  in  this 
state,  until  about  four  years  ago  I  happened  to  be  in  a  broker's  office  on  Broadway 
and  was  much  surprised  to  see  there  a  most  beautiful  colored  copy  of  this  view  in 
perfect  condition,  and  as  originally  framed.  The  owner  would  not  consider  selling 
it  at  any  price;  in  fact,  he  said  he  had  given  it  to  his  wife.  Finally,  however,  he 
read  about  the  sale  of  the  Broadway  stages  above  referred  to,  and  told  me  then  he 
thought  his  print  was  worth  $2,000.  I  mentioned  this  to  some  one,  who  declared 
himself  willing  to  give  $1,800  for  it,  but  eventually  had  to  pay  $2,200  to  secure  it. 
Just  recently  a  fourth  copy  was  sold  at  Merwin's,  not  nearly  as  fine,  for  $2,020.  Mr. 
Stevens  paid  about  $35  for  his  copy,  and  I  made  a  bona  fide  offer  of  $2,000  for  it. 
Mr.  Stevens  had  promised  to  give  it  to  the  New  York  Historical  Society,  where 
it  now  is.  Mr.  Crimmins's  copy  probably  cost  less  than  $35.  Mr.  J.  Romaine 
Brown,  whose  father  founded  the  line  of  Kip  &  Brown  stages,  also  owns  a  copy. 

The  City  Hall  and  Park  (by  Wall  after  Hill),  of  which  several  copies  are 
known,  prior  to  the  Holden  Sale  was  valued  at  about  $200.  I  had  appraised  Mr. 
Ford's  copy  at  that  figure.  The  morning  after  the  Holden  Sale  the  papers  gave 
a  list  of  some  of  the  principal  prints,  and  the  prices  at  which  they  sold.  This  City 
Hall  print  fetched  the  abnormal  price  of  $1,650.  Mr.  Ford  stopped  me  that  morn- 
ing on  the  hotel  steps  and  asked  me  if  this  was  the  same  as  his  print,  which  then 
was  in  the  corridor  by  the  stock-ticker.  I  tried  to  make  believe  it  wasn't,  but  he 
knew  it  was.  "Well,"  he  said,  "I  think  I  paid  as  much  as  fifteen  dollars  for 
it,  but  I  am  going  to  get  that  down  from  there  and  put  it  in  the  safe."  I  found 
out  afterward  it  had  cost  him  $35.  Another  print,  the  "First  Artillery  at  the  Bat- 
tery," which  had  fetched  $725,  he  had  purchased  for  about  the  same  price. 

Some  collectors  have  limited  themselves  to  prints  of  New  York  prior  to  1820.  A 
great  deal  has  been  written  of  these  views  covering  this  period.  The  very  first  actual 
view  of  New  York,  printed  in  a  little  book  in  Amsterdam  in  1651,  is  the  greatest 
rarity.  Excepting  in  the  Public  Library,  Mr.  Davies  is  the  only  collector  who 
has  this  in  the  original  edition,  and  he  was  fortunate  in  securing  the  copy  from  the 


[331] 


First  Directory  of  New  York 


Hoe  Library  at  about  $2,500.  Mr.  Davies  also  secured  the  Hoe  copy  of  the  first 
New  York  Directory,  of  1786,  though  this  does  not  come  under  the  head  of  New 
York  views.  Still,  it  is  probably  the  most  interesting  item  in  connection  with  old 
New  York.  There  have  been  various  facsimiles  and  re-prints  made,  but,  so  far  as 
I  know,  only  four  of  the  originals  have  been  preserved.  The  Hoe  copy  was  that  of 
the  original  Mr.  Kalbfleisch  in  1786.  Another  interesting  copy  is  now  in  the  library 
of  Mr.  Henry  Huntington,  who  got  it  in  the  famous  Church  Library,  which  he  pur- 
chased a  year  ago.  This  copy  was  the  one  belonging  to  Mr.  Schieffelin,  and  was 
beautifully  preserved.  I  procured  this  for  Mr.  Church  in  1889,  and  no  other  copy 
has  been  heard  of  since,  although  I  believe  there  has  been  more  search  made  for 
this  than  any  other  New  York  item.  Mr.  Church  had  every  other  directory  of 
every  sort,  and  had  despaired  of  ever  getting  this  one.  (He  had  a  very  imperfect 
one.)    The  day  he  got  it  he  put  it  in  his  safe,  where  he  kept  new  items  as  they  were 

procured,  and  such  bibliophiles  as  Mr.  P  and  Mr.  C  were  in  the  habit  of 

dropping  in  every  afternoon  to  see  what  new  wonder  Mr.  Church  had  secured. 
On  this  occasion  they  came  in  together  and  asked  the  usual  question — "What  has 
turned  up?" 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Church,  "here  is  a  little  thing  in  which  you  may  be  interested," 
and  with  that  he  handed  them  the  package  just  as  it  had  been  found,  wrapped  in 
a  piece  of  old-fashioned  very  dark  paper.  At  the  first  glimpse  of  it  they  both  ex- 
claimed, "Why,  where  did  you  find  that*"  "Oh,"  said  Mr.  Church,  "I  picked  it  up 
this  morning  uptown." 

But  it  is  of  the  later  period  of  old  New  York,  when  pictures  had  multiplied, 
that  this  work  is  principally  intended  to  deal  with,  views  that  may  be  recalled  by 
those  who  are  still  living. 

About  1850  lithography  in  color  had  reached  a  practical  period  of  develop- 
ment, and  it  was  made  use  of  most  extensively  for  the  reproduction  of  pictures  of 
every  description.  It  is  among  these  prints  that  we  find  the  greatest  number  of 
the  most  interesting  views  of  New  York.  It  was  greatly  favored  for  advertising 
purposes,  and  merchants,  hotels,  etc.,  have  issued  numerous  views  of  their  build- 
ings. Some  of  the  most  interesting  are  the  Jones  and  Newman  pictorial  direc- 
tories; Broadway  from  the  Battery  to  Worth  Street;  showing  each  building  on 
both  sides  of  the  street,  with  all  the  various  names  of  the  different  business  firms 
there  located.  There  are  similar  ones  of  Fulton  Street,  Maiden  Lane,  William 
Street,  all  of  which  are  extremely  rare  now,  and,  although  sold  originally  at  the 
modest  price  of  12^  cents  a  copy,  the  Hoi  den  set  of  Broadway  fetched  $540,  and 
has  since  been  resold  at  a  higher  figure.  Mr.  Dowling  has  also  a  complete  Broad- 
way set.  The  same  idea  was  used  by  Tallis,  the  engraver,  who  issued  finely  en- 
graved plates  in  a  similar  manner.  It  was  at  this  period  that  the  Stephenson  views 
were  made,  of  which  ten  are  known,  and  six  of  them  are  given  pages  in  this  book. 
These  were  large  folios,  and  show  only  about  two  blocks  in  each.  Notwithstanding 
the  superior  quality  of  these  lithographs  in  color,  fewer  of  them  have  survived.  In 
fact,  six  of  the  ten  are  at  the  present  unique,  so  far  as  is  known,  and  these  are  in 


[  332  ] 


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The  Stephensons  and  Others 


six  different  collections ;  two  copies  only  are  known  of  two  others,  and  of  the  re- 
maining two  only  four  or  five. 
The  subjects  of  these  are: 

(Six  unique) 
Beekman  Street,  north  side,  Nassau  to  William 
Park  Place,  north  side,  Broadway  to  Church 
Warren  Street,  north  side,  Broadway  to  Church 
Worth  Street,  north  side,  Broadway  to  Church 
Broadway,  west  side,  Morris  Street  to  Exchange  Alley 
Broadway,  west  side,  Prince  to  Houston 

(Two  only) 

Cortlandt  Street,  south  side,  Broadway  to  Greenwich 
Broadway,  west  side,  Canal  to  Grand. 

(Four  or  five  only) 
Broadway,  west  side,  Warren  to  Chambers 
Broadway,  west  side,  Cortlandt  to  Fulton 

Other  very  interesting  views  were  made  at  this  time  by  a  French  artist,  John 
Bornet.  His  "Battery"  in  1851,  elsewhere  shown,  is  undoubtedly  the  best  view  of 
this  fashionable  promenade  that  has  been  made,  and  is  an  especially  fine  example 
of  colored  lithography.  Mr.  Goelet's  is  the  only  one  known,  although  an  uncolored 
one  has  lately  been  found.  Bornet  made  numerous  city  views  of  New  York  and 
elsewhere,  which  were  published  in  a  portfolio.  Some  of  his  original  drawings 
were  in  the  Holden  collection,  and  are  now  owned  by  Mr.  Davies  and  the  New 
York  Historical  Society.  There  is  also  a  series  of  fine  lithographs  of  the  famous 
hotels,  several  of  which  are  unique.  These  were  principally  by  Endicott:  The 
Howard  House,  now  the  Title  Guarantee  and  Trust  Company  Building;  the 
Rathbun  Hotel  (City  Investment  Building) ;  Franklin  Hotel  (Western  Union 
Building) ;  Park  View  Hotel  (Astor  House) ;  the  American  Hotel  (Wool worth 
Building) ;  the  Carrolton,  St.  Nicholas,  Metropolitan,  New  York,  etc.,  etc.  By  1860 
and  during  the  war,  photography  began  to  encroach  on  this  field,  and  with  the 
invention  of  the  photo-engraving  processes  came  an  end  of  all  such  fine  repro- 
ductions. 

Of  this  later  period  we  have  been  very  fortunate  in  having  had  the  use  of 
many  original  photographs,  that  have  been  preserved,  such  as  those  of  St.  George's 
Chapel  in  Beekman  Street;  Dr.  Tyng's  Church  on  42nd  Street;  the  first  stores  of 
R.  H.  Macy,  Lord  &  Taylor,  Brooks  Bros.,  Gunther,  W.  &  J.  Sloane,  etc.  Pho- 
tographers vied  with  each  other  in  procuring  the  best  views.  They  were  equally 
artists  in  their  profession.  Unfortunately,  the  glass  plate  had  less  chance  of  life 
than  other  graphic  work,  and  permanency  had  not  yet  become  possible.  It  is  heart- 
breaking to  know  of  the  multitude  of  old  prints  made  by  photography,  of  which 
so  few  now  remain.  The  making  of  panoramic  views  was  attempted  by  several  pho- 
tographers. One  in  particular,  Beale,  as  late  as  1876  in  his  Centennial  picture  of 
New  York,  has  shown  what  they  wished  to  do,  but,  owing  to  the  impracticability  of 
them  from  a  commercial  standpoint,  very  few  examples  remain  to-day.   This  latter 


[  335  ] 


Fate  of  the  Beale  Negatives 


view  was  made  from  the  Brooklyn  tower  of  the  bridge  on  five  plates  16  by 
20  inches,  which  are  perfectly  joined  and  form  one  complete  view  of  New  York 
from  the  upper  Bay  across  the  Hudson  River,  and  north  to  the  end  of  the  Palisades, 
sixteen  miles  from  the  point  of  view,  with  the  East  River  front  in  the  immediate 
foreground  up  to  Pell  Street.  Hundreds  of  old  business  buildings  are  shown.  This 
was  one  of  the  greatest  achievements  in  photography,  and  copies  of  this  view  are 
eagerly  bought  up  at  $100  and  $150  apiece.  The  writer  at  one  time  owned  the  glass 
negatives.  An  assistant,  while  looking  in  the  shelves  above,  stepped  on  the  set, 
which  were  unfortunately  on  the  counter,  and  the  lot  was  ruined.  I  can  hear  the 
breaking  of  that  glass  to  this  day! 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  BROOKLYN  BRIDGE 

The  four  bridges  across  the  East  River  are  looked  on  by  present-day  New 
Yorkers  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  sixty  years  ago,  when  the  only  means  of  com- 
munication between  the  two  cities  was  by  ferry,  the  conception  of  an  overhead  span 
seemed  a  daring  one,  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  account  of  it. 

(From  the  Journal  of  Commerce) 

The  subjoined  note  has  a  profound  interest  of  its  own,  as  vindicating  the  claims  of  the  late 
distinguished  engineer,  Mr.  John  A.  Roebling,  to  the  sole  honor  of  that  daring  conception  which 
has  resulted  in  the  building  of  the  great  bridge.  In  confirmation  of  Mr.  Meissnor's  reminis- 
cences it  should  be  said  that  the  grand  idea  was  first  broached  in  print  in  the  columns  of  the 
Journal  of  Commerce  by  a  letter  from  Mr.  Roebling  to  Hon.  Abram  S.  Hewitt,  which  was 
sent  to  us  by  the  latter  for  publication: 

Editor  of  the  Journal  of  Commerce: 

As  everybody  now  is  claiming  to  have  originated  the  East  River  Bridge,  might  I  ask  you 
to  publish  the  following  little  reminiscence  as  tending  to  throw  light  on  the  question : 

In  the  month  of  February,  1853,  my  uncle,  the  late  John  A.  Roebling,  accompanied  by  his 
wife  and  son  Washington,  then  a  lad  of  15  years,  came  from  Trenton  to  my  house  in  Hicks 
Street,  South  Brooklyn,  to  attend  the  christening  of  my  infant  daughter  Amelia.  Returning 
in  the  afternoon  by  the  Hamilton  Ferry,  the  boat  was  caught  in  the  ice,  and  drifted  round  in 
a  helpless  condition  for  three  or  four  hours.  A  boat  load  of  soldiers  who  were  cast  away  from 
Governor's  Island  were  rescued  on  the  trip.  Mrs.  Roebling  was  in  great  anxiety  of  mind,  hav- 
ing left  an  infant  child  at  home.  Mr.  Roebling  then  took  a  solemn  vow,  in  presence  of  the 
hungry  half-frozen  passengers,  that  if  his  life  were  spared  he  would  yet  build  a  bridge  across 
the  East  River. 

If  I  remember  right,  during  the  same  winter  the  Journal  of  Commerce  discussed  the 
feasibility  of  constructing  a  bridge  between  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  and  Mr.  Roebling  sub- 
mitted his  views  about  a  suspension  bridge  in  your  valued  paper. 

He  then  stated  to  me,  however,  that  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for  such  an  immense 
structure,  which  could  not  be  built  for  less  than  ten  millions  of  dollars,  as  it  ought  to  connect 
the  City  Halls  of  both  cities. 

His  vow  and  the  crowning  idea  of  his  life  have  been  carried  out,  not  by  the  father,  but 
by  the  son  who  stood  so  ably  by  his  side.  Yours  respectfully,  Fr.  Meissnoe. 


[  336  ] 


COPYRIGHT    1913.   H    C  BROWN 

Jirst  ^oubp  iEtgrttrfc  by  daa,  IB  25 


RESIDENCE  OF  MR.  SAMUEL  LEGGETT.  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  FIRST 
GAS  COMPANY.  AT  No  7  CHERRY  STREET.  THEN  A  VERY  FASHION- 
ABLE NEIGHBORHOOD. 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.   GEORGE   B.  CORTELVOU. 


OLD  CHELSEA  VILLAGE 


In  Chelsea  Village,  which  is  that  part  of  town  west  of  Eighth  Avenue  between 
about  Nineteenth  and  Twenty-fourth  Streets,  the  searcher  after  relics  of  bygone 
days  may  find  a  few,  though  many  have  been  crushed  out  of  existence.  Modern 
improvements  have  not  entirely  obliterated  the  green  wooden  shutters  or  the  curi- 
ously designed  iron  fences,  or  the  carved  doorways  with  brass  knockers,  or  the  dia- 
mond-pane windows,  or  the  wide  stairways  with  heavy  posts,  as,  for  instance,  in  the 
row  of  little  houses  west  of  Ninth  Avenue  on  Twenty-fourth  Street,  known  as 
the  Chelsea  Cottages.  The  old  people  of  the  section  of  New  York  where  all  that 
remains  of  old  Chelsea  Village  is,  can  tell  you  of  the  quaint  little  houses,  with  pretty 
gardens,  that  stood  behind  such  and  such  buildings  standing  to-day.  They  will 
point  out  to  you  little  alleys,  black  and  gloomy,  that  were  one-time  streets  or 
short  cuts  from  one  place  to  another  place.  They  will  tell  you  that  on  the  block 
between  Twenty-second  and  Twenty-third  Streets,  from  Eighth  to  Ninth  Avenue, 
at  one  time  stood  the  picturesque  home  of  Clement  C.  Moore,  son  of  the  second 
Bishop  of  New  York  and  writer  of  the  nursery  rhyme,  "  'Twas  the  Night  before 
Christmas."  "The  kindliest  of  scholars,  the  most  learned  of  college  professors,  the 
most  assiduous  of  bookworms"  composed  this  little  rhyme  in  what  the  old  Chelsea 
resident  will  tell  you  was  a  cosey  home  surrounded  by  great  oaks  and  elms.  In  the 
Church  of  St.  Peter,  in  West  Twentieth  Street,  reminiscent  of  the  old  days,  a 
memorial  tells  the  simple  record  of  Clement  C.  Moore's  good  works.  Old  St. 
Peter's  has  been  touched  up  with  modern  ideas  during  the  last  few  years,  but  retains 
its  solidity,  evidence  of  honesty  in  building,  and  simplicity,  as  befits  its  mission. 

To  Captain  Thomas  Clarke,  a  veteran  of  the  French  and  Indian  wars,  is  due 
the  credit  for  establishing  Chelsea.  Far  away  in  1750  this  American  soldier  built 
a  house  on  a  hill  which  stood  opposite  what  is  now  London  Terrace,  on  West 
Twenty-third  Street,  and  called  it  Chelsea,  after  a  retreat  of  that  name  in  England 
for  old  soldiers.  At  the  time  mentioned  this  house  was  the  only  one  to  be  seen  for 
miles  around.  Shortly  after  its  erection  a  fire  occurred  in  it  and  it  was  burned 
almost  to  the  ground.  Captain  Clarke,  who  was  ill  at  the  time,  was  carried  from 
it  and  died  at  the  house  of  a  friend.  After  his  death  his  wife  rebuilt  it  and  lived  in 
it  with  her  two  daughters,  until  her  death  in  1802,  when  it  became  the  property  of 
the  father  of  Clement  C.  Moore,  and  after  the  former's  death  passed  to  the  son. 
From  this  old  house  is  derived  the  name  of  the  former  village,  and  also  the  name  of 
Chelsea  Square.  The  present  Theological  Seminary  of  the  Episcopal  Church  stands 
on  a  part  of  the  Moore  Farm. 

What  remains  of  London  Terrace  and  its  deep  gardens  is  also  an  evidence  of 
the  beauty  and  respectability  of  old  Chelsea  before  the  rush  of  population  engulfed 
them. 


[339] 


The  Picturesque  Cushman  Homestead 


Another  old  landmark  of  Chelsea  Village  is  at  the  corner  of  Twenty-eighth 
Street  and  Ninth  Avenue,  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Aspostles.  The  founding  of 
this  church  is  of  especial  interest.  For  disobeying  his  father's  wish  that  he  should 
not  adopt  the  ministry  as  a  calling,  a  young  man  was  disinherited.  The  father,  see- 
ing the  son  consistently  following  his  chosen  religious  path,  made  a  new  will 
leaving  to  him  his  entire  possessions.  With  the  death  of  the  father,  and  the  division 
equally  by  the  son  of  the  property  among  the  heirs,  his  own  share  was  given  as  a 
thank  offering  to  build  the  church. 

There  were  many  peculiarities  about  this  old  neighborhood.  Certain  streets 
were  sacred  to  certain  nationalities.  The  Scotch  row  on  19th  Street  east  of  Eighth 
Avenue  was  sacred  to  denizens  of  that  country.  This  row  was  terraced  about  fif- 
teen feet  above  the  walk.  It  has  long  ago  disappeared.  The  Yankee  row  on  West 
19th  Street  near  Seventh  Avenue  was  given  over  to  native  sons,  and  London  Ter- 
race on  24th  Street  to  the  sons  of  Albion. 

One  of  the  picturesque  sights  of  the  old  village  was  the  Cushman  homestead. 
This  was  adorned  with  a  charming  old-fashioned  garden,  with  fruit  trees,  lilacs, 
sweet-william,  hollyhocks,  wistaria,  ramblers  and  columbine.  The  coach  house  was 
on  21st  Street.  It  stood  back  from  the  street  and  saw  the  neighborhood  grow 
right  up  almost  to  its  spacious  entrance.  When  it  was  narrowed  in  on  all  sides 
by  towering  buildings  it  gave  up  the  struggle  and  became  the  site  of  Chelsea 
Court.  The  Cushmans  were  as  much  a  part  of  Chelsea  as  the  village  itself,  so  long 
had  they  lived  there  and  so  extensive  was  their  estate.  On  another  page  we  show  a 
picture  of  the  old  garden. 

The  well-known  Hoffman  family,  to  which  Dean  Hoffman  belonged  and  who 
have  done  so  much  for  the  General  Theological  Seminary,  also  lived  in  the  village, 
as  also  the  Delamaters,  who  built  all  the  small  vessels  during  the  Civil  War  at 
foot  of  13th  Street;  Jake  Sharp,  famous  as  the  man  who  put  the  street  cars  on 
Broadway,  and  was  indicted  for  his  pains.  Lily  Langtry  lived  for  a  while  in  that 
delightfully  retired,  fenced-in  house  at  No.  347  on  23rd  Street,  now  the  Pasteur 
Institute;  Josie  Mansfield,  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  between  Jim  Fisk  and  Ed. 
Stokes,  at  349.  Robert  Gair,  now  one  of  the  leading  financiers  in  Brooklyn,  whose 
colony  of  huge  factories  is  seen  from  the  Bridge,  lived  on  22nd  Street  near  Sev- 
enth Avenue. 

Hugh  J.  Grant's  father  had  a  liquor  store  on  the  northwest  corner  of  27th 
Street  and  Eighth  Avenue.  He  had  a  sign  with  General  Grant  on  horseback. 
The  old  Water  Cure  House  stood  on  22nd  Street,  west  of  Eighth  Avenue,  and 
had  a  tremendous  vogue  in  its  day.    Everything  was  cured  by  water. 

An  undertaker's  shop  that  was  famous  all  over  the  city  was  that  conducted 
by  old  "Pop"  Merritt.  Everybody  knew  him  and  everybody  wanted  him.  He 
was  very  good  to  the  poor,  and  his  friends  ranged  from  the  humblest  to  the  high- 
est in  the  city.  He  buried  General  Grant.  He  was  also  a  Methodist  preacher. 
The  present  Stephen  Merritt  Burial  Company  is  an  offshoot  of  the  old  business. 
The  Hall  family  is  also  pleasantly  remembered. 


[340] 


(§\b  Nrro  lork  llmurrmiy  Suiliing  in  BHasljingtriu  §>iiuarr.  1S45 


JOHN  JOHNSTON.  GRANDFATHER  OF  MRS.  ROBERT  W.  DE  FOREST. 
AN  OLD  NEW  YORK  MERCHANT  WHO  LIVED  AT  No.  7  ON  THE  NORTH 
SIDE  OF  THE  SQUARE.  WAS  ONE  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  FOUNDERS  AND 
A  GENEROUS  FINANCIAL  SUPPORTER  OF  THIS  UNIVERSITY.  IN  IT 
PROF.  HENRY  DRAPER  PERFECTED  HIS  INVENTION  OF  A  DAGUERRE- 
OTYPE AND  MADE  THE  FIRST  PORTRAIT  OF  A  HUMAN  FACE. 
S.  F.  B.  MORSE  ALSO  EXPERIMENTED  WITH  HIS  TELEGRAPHIC 
APPARATUS  HERE.  BOTH  WERE  PROFESSORS  THERE.  COLT  IN- 
VENTED THE  REVOLVER  NAMED  FOR  HIM  HERE. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION    OF  MR    J.  H.  JORDAN. 


The  Orange  Riot 


Frederick  C.  Gibbs,  for  many  years  a  member  of  the  Assembly,  was  also  a 
resident  of  22nd  Street.  The  block  between  Ninth  and  Tenth  Avenues  was  known 
as  Lenox  Place.  The  old  Sixteenth  Street  Baptist  Church  on  Eighth  Avenue 
still  stands,  and  is  one  of  the  best  known  in  the  city.  Judge  Mead  and  John  C. 
Sheehan,  well-known  men  at  that  time,  also  lived  there,  and  the  Pequot  Club  of 
Tammany  Hall,  a  celebrated  political  organization  thirty  years  ago,  was  on  24th 
Street,  north  side,  second  house  east  of  Eighth  Avenue. 

The  famous  Orange  Riot  occurred  on  Eighth  Avenue  between  23rd  Street  and 
27th  Street  in  1875.  The  Irish  population  in  New  York  was  very  considerable, 
and  determined  to  prevent  the  Orangemen's  parade.  Colonel  Fisk's  regiment  was 
ordered  out  to  quell  the  disturbance;  the  Colonel  was  hit  on  the  foot  by  a  brick, 
and  carried  into  Essler's  tailor  shop.  Herman's  beer  saloon  had  its  windows  rid- 
dled with  bullets.  Bricks  were  thrown  from  the  roofs  of  adjoining  houses,  and  be- 
fore the  outbreak  was  quelled  quite  a  large  number  of  casualties  occurred.  The 
Erie  Railroad  had  its  offices  in  the  Grand  Opera  House,  and  the  books  were  thrown 
out  of  the  windows  during  the  memorable  struggle  with  Vanderbilt.  The  Knick- 
erbocker stages  had  a  barn  where  the  Opera  House  is  now,  and  the  stables  were 
on  the  corner  of  27th  Street  and  Ninth  Avenue. 

Another  very  well-known  family  was  the  Lambs,  who  lived  in  22nd  Street. 
They  made  some  radical  changes  in  the  appearance  of  their  houses,  so  that  they 
were  quite  distinct  from  anything  else  on  the  block.  Both  of  the  Lamb  boys, 
Charles  R.  and  Frederick  S.,  rose  to  distinction,  the  former  creating  the  famous 
Dewey  Arch  and  other  architectural  successes,  and  the  latter  securing  a  prize  at 
the  Paris  Exposition  for  a  window  design.  Miss  Ella  Condie  Lamb  is  also  a 
noted  painter  of  portraits  and  miniatures.  They  are  among  the  oldest  inhabitants 
of  the  "village." 

The  name  of  the  village  is  perpetuated  in  the  most  wonderful  section  of  dock- 
front  improvement  the  city  has  ever  undertaken.  It  is  quite  within  bounds  to  say 
that  the  Chelsea  Docks  are  more  scientifically  constructed  than  any  other  similar 
place  in  the  world. 

The  old  village  is  gone,  but  in  its  place  is  a  section  that  seems  destined  to  be 
an  honor  and  credit  to  the  city,  thus  living  up  to  its  past  reputation. 


[343] 


STREET  CRIES  OF  OLD  DAYS 


A  very  curious  feature  of  New  York  life  fifty  years  ago  was  the  numerous 
venders  of  eatables  that  were  sold  from  door  to  door.  Occasionally,  one  still 
comes  across  a  peddler  on  the  East  side  crying  his  wares,  but,  nowadays,  it  is  the 
exception  and  not  the  rule.  Yet  in  former  times,  the  streets  were  alive  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night  with  hucksters  of  one  sort  or  another  and  every  trade 
had  its  special  cry  frequently  varied  by  averse.  The  clam  man  sang : 

"Here's  clams,  here's  clams,  here's  clams  to-day, 
They  lately  came  from  Rockaway; 
They're  good  to  roast,  they're  good  to  fry, 
They're  good  to  make  a  clam  pot-pie. 
Here  they  go!" 

The  baker's  boy,  in  the  afternoon,  took  a  basket  with  the  fresh-baked  tea  rusk 
and  cried  "Tea  ruk,  ruk,  ruk,  tea  ruk";  and  the  negro  woman,  in  the  summer  and 
fall  of  the  year,  with  a  simple  bandanna  kerchief  on  her  head,  toted  a  pail  and 
shouted  "Hot  corn,  hot  corn,  here's  your  lily  white  hot  corn;  hot  corn,  all  hot; 
just  come  out  of  the  boiling  pot!"  And  then  another  of  a  like  type  also  toted  and 
shouted  "Baked  pears,  baked  pears,  fresh  baked,  baked  pears !" 

Chimney  sweeps,  rendered  necessary  by  the  general  use  of  wood  or  bitumi- 
nous coal,  saluted  the  early  morning  with  "Sweep  O!  Sweep  O!"  "Rags,  rags, 
any  old  rags!"  "Old  clo',  old  clo\  any  old  clo'!"  "Scissors  to  grind,  scissors  to 
grind!"  and  the  jingle  of  the  junkman's  bells  were  familiar  sounds. 

Venders  of  oysters,  fish,  buns,  yeast,  hot  spiced  ginger-bread,  strawberries, 
ice  cream  and  what  not,  all  added  to  the  din  and  even  in  those  so-called  peaceful 
days  there  was  plenty  of  noise.  They  were  a  picturesque,  hard-working  lot  with 
many  a  well-known  character  among  them.  So  pronounced  a  feature  of  the  city's 
life  that  curious  drawings  of  them  still  exist;  one  in  particular  in  the  rooms  of  the 
N.  Y.  Historical  Society  shows  at  least  a  dozen  characteristic  poses  of  these  itin- 
erant merchants.  Strange  to  relate,  the  omnipresent  newsboy  of  to-day  had 
not  made  his  appearance  in  any  considerable  number,  but  his  beginning  was  noted. 


[  344  ] 


 ■  -  • 

I 


THIS  CORNER  WAS  TAKEN  JUST  BEFORE  THE  JONES  5  NEWMAN 
VIEW  OF  1850.  IN  THE  BUILDING  SECOND  FROM  BROADWAY  WAS 
THE  ORIGINAL  PRINT  SHOP  OF  THEO  L.  DE  VINNE.  WHO  AFTER- 
WARDS BECAME  PRINTER  TOTHE  CENTURY  MAGAZINE  AND  ESTAB- 
LISHED THE  DE  VINNE  PRESS  IN  1849  JOHN  ANDERSON  THE 
TOBACCO  MERCHANT.  VERY  PROMINENT  IN  THOSE  DAYS.  DE- 
MOLISHED THESE  BUILDINGS  AND  ERECTED  A  FIVE-STORY  STRUC- 
TURE FOR  HIS  OWN  BUSINESS  ON  THE  SITE.  THIS  WAS  A  STRIKING 
INNOVATION  FOR  THE  TIMES  AND  THE  HIGHEST  YET  PROJECTED 
ONE  OF  THE  GREAT  SENSATIONS  OF  THE  DAY  WAS  THE  DISAPPEAR- 
ANCE OF  A  YOUNG  WOMAN  EMPLOYED  BY  ANDERSON  AS  CASHIER. 

FROM    THE  COLLECTION    OF  MR.  JOHN    N.  GOLDING. 


FRAUNCES'  TAVERN 


The  Sons  of  the  Revolution  performed  an  act  of  signal  patriotism  when  they 
secured  for  the  use  of  the  city  so  important  an  historical  structure  as  this  famous  old 
Revolutionary  landmark.  The  society  owns  the  building,  having  purchased  it  out- 
right, being  largely  aided  in  this  worthy  enterprise  by  a  large  bequest  from  the  late 
Mr.  Frederick  Samuel  Tallmadge,  one  of  its  distinguished  presidents. 

The  following  account  of  its  history  is  taken  from  the  City  History  Club's 
Guide  Book: 

1719. — Built  by  Etienne  DeLancey  as  a  residence.  It  descended  to  his  son,  Judge  and  Governor  James 
DeLancey,  and  to  his  son,  Oliver  DeLancey.  At  some  time  before  1757,  it  became  the  residence  of  Col.  Joseph 
Robinson,  partner  of  Oliver  DeLancey,  James  DeLancey  having  moved  to  his  mansion  on  site  of  present  No. 
113  Broadway.    (Excursion  1,  25.) 

1757. — It  became  the  store  and  warehouse  of  DeLancey,  Robinson  &  Co.,  who  announced  in  Gaines'  "Mer- 
cury," May  28,  1757,  that  they  had  "moved  to  Col.  Robinson's  late  dwelling  next  to  the  Royal  Exchange,  and 
should  there  continue  to  sell  all  sorts  European  and  East  Indian  goods — shoes,  shirts,  white  and  checked, 
for  the  army,  with  a  variety  of  other  goods." 

1762,  January  15. — Purchased  by  Samuel  Fraunces,  called  "Black  Sam,"  from  his  swarthy  appearance,  he 
being  a  West  Indian.  Fraunces  had  been  made  a  "freeman"  of  New  York  while  an  innkeeper  in  1755.  He 
opened  here  the  Queen's  Head  or  Queen  Charlotte  Tavern,  named  in  honor  of  the  young  consort  of  George 
III. 

1765. — Leased  to  John  Jones  as  a  tavern,  while  Fraunces  for  a  time  took  charge  of  Vauxhall  Gardens. 
1766— Leased  to  Bolton  &  Sigell  (Sigel). 

1768.  April  8. — The  Chamber  of  Commerce,  composed  of  twenty-four  importers  and  merchants,  organized, 
with  John  Cruger  as  President,  in  the  Long  Room,  so  called  in  imitation  of  the  long  Indian  lodges  used  for 
tribal  meetings.  Monthly  meetings  of  the  Chamber  were  held  for  some  time  "at  Bolton  &  Sigel's,  precisely  at 
the  usual  hour,  six-thirty." 

1769.  — Richard  Bolton  alone  in  charge.  One  or  more  meetings  were  held  to  consider  the  passage  of  a 
second  Non-Importation  Agreement.     (Wilson's  Memorial  History.) 

1770.  — Fraunces  again  in  possession  of  the  Queen's  Head  Tavern,  "refitted  in  the  most  genteel  and  con- 
venient manner  for  the  reception  and  entertainment  of  those  gentlemen,  ladies,  and  others  who  used  to  favor 
him  with  their  company,"  dinners  and  suppers  being  served  "not  only  to  lodgers  but  to  those  who  live  at  a 
convenient  distance."    The  Long  Room  was  also  used  for  a  series  of  lectures. 

1774,  April. — The  Sons  of  Liberty  and  the  Vigilance  Committee  met  here  to  protest,  as  the  ship  Lon- 
don had  just  docked  at  the  wharf  of  the  East  India  Company  in  the  vicinity  of  Fraunces'  Tavern  with  a 
cargo  of  tea.  The  meeting  resulted  in  those  who  participated  marching  to  the  dock,  where  the  entire  cargo 
was  thrown  overboard. 

1775.  — The  Massachusetts  delegates  to  the  Second  Continental  Congress  stopped  here  on  their  way  to  Phila- 
delphia. 

1775,  August  23. — The  building  was  struck  by  a  shot  from  the  man-of-war  Asia,  giving  rise  to  the  oft- 
quoted  lines  of  Philip  Freneau: 

"Scarce  a  broadside  was  ended  till  'nother  begain  again, 
By  Jove!    It  was  nothing  but  fire  away,  Flanagan! 
Some  thought  him  saluting  his  Sallys  and  Nancys, 
Till  he  drove  a  round  shot  through  the  roof  of  Sam  Francis." 

Ed.  of  1786  reads: 

"At  first  we  supposed  it  was  only  a  sham, 
Till  he  drove  a  round  ball  through  the  roof  of  Black  Sam." 

1783,  November  25. — Governor  George  Clinton  gave  a  banquet  on  Evacuation  Day  to  General  Washington, 
the  French  ambassador,  Chevalier  de  la  Luzerne,  and  many  Revolutionary  officers  and  civilians.  Thirteen 
toasts  were  given,  beginning  with  "The  United  States  of  America,"  and  "May  this  Day  be  a  Lesson  for 
Princes."    Fireworks  followed  on  the  Bowling  Green. 


[347  ] 


Washington's  Farewell  Address 


1783,  December  4. — Washington's  farewell  to  forty-four  officers,  including  Generals  Greene,  Knox,  Wayne, 
Steuben,  Carroll,  Lincoln,  Kosciusko,  Moultrie,  and  Hamilton,  Governor  Clinton,  Colonel  Tallmadge  and  others. 
Says  Colonel  Tallmadge  in  original  journal,  now  at  Fraunces'  Tavern: 

"We  had  been  assembled  but  a  few  minutes  when  His  Excellency  entered  the  room.  His  emotion,  too 
strong  to  be  concealed,  seemed  to  be  reciprocated  by  every  officer  present.  After  partaking  of  a  slight  re- 
freshment amid  almost  breathless  silence,  the  General  filled  his  glass  with  wine  and,  turning  to  his  officers, 
said:  'With  a  heart  full  of  love  and  gratitude  I  must  now  take  my  leave  of  you.  I  most  devoutly  wish  that 
your  latter  days  may  be  as  prosperous  and  happy  as  your  former  ones  have  been  glorious  and  honorable.' 
After  the  officers  had  taken  a  glass  of  wine,  the  General  added:  'I  cannot  come  to  each  of  you  to  take  my 
leave,  but  shall  be  obliged  to  you  if  each  will  come  and  take  me  by  the  hand.'  General  Knox,  being  nearest 
to  him,  turned  to  the  Commander-in-Chief,  who,  suffused  in  tears,  was  incapable  of  utterance,  but  grasped  his 
hand,  when  they  embraced  each  other  in  silence.  In  the  same  affectionate  manner  every  officer  in  the  room 
marched  up  to,  kissed  and  parted  with  his  General-in-Chief.  Such  a  scene  of  sorrow  and  weeping  I  had  never 
before  witnessed,  and  hope  I  may  never  be  called  upon  to  witness  again.  Not  a  word  was  uttered  to  break 
the  solemn  silence  that  prevailed,  or  to  interrupt  the  tenderness  of  the  occasion." 

Thence  Washington  proceeded  to  the  Whitehall  Ferry,  and  took  his  departure  from  the  city. 

1785. — The  Tavern  was  sold  by  Fraunces  and  came  into  various  hands.  After  the  Revolution  the  St. 
Andrew's  Society,  the  Governors  of  the  New  York  Hospital,  the  New  York  Society  for  Promoting  Arts  and 
Agriculture,  all  met  here.    Balls  were  also  held  in  the  Long  Room. 

1832. — Interior  partly  burnt  out  and  a  flat  roof  added. 

1837. — Leased  by  John  Gardner,  a  hotel  proprietor,  who  had  been  burnt  out  in  the  great  fire  of  1835. 
1844. — The  New  York  Yacht  Club  was  founded  here. 

1852,  June  15. — While  called  the  Broad  Street  House  and  kept  by  E.  Beaumeyer,  the  Tavern  was  visited 
by  a  very  disastrous  fire,  after  which  two  stories  were  added,  making  it  five  stories  high.  Further  alterations 
were  made  about  1890,  when  the  taproom  was  lowered  to  the  level  of  the  street  and  the  ground  floor  windows 
modernized. 

1883,  December  4. — On  the  100th  anniversary  of  Washington's  Farewell  the  Society  of  the  Sons  of  the 
Revolution  was  formally  organized  in  the  Long  Room  and  met  here  annually  for  many  years. 

1889-1903. — The  Preservation  of  Fraunces'  Tavern. — At  the  time  of  the  centennial  celebration  of  Washing- 
ton's Inauguration  (1889),  attention  was  directed  to  the  interesting  associations  of  the  building,  and  during 
the  next  thirteen  years  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution  made  several  efforts  to  purchase  the  property  in  order  to  pre- 
serve and  restore  it.  Efforts  were  also  made  by  patriotic  individuals  and  societies  to  insure  its  preservation. 
These  finally  resulted,  in  1903,  in  the  passage  of  an  ordinance  by  the  Board  of  Estimate  and  Apportionment 
to  buy  the  Tavern  and  half  a  block  on  which  it  stands  for  a  Revolutionary  museum  and  park.  In  the  spring 
of  1904  Messrs.  Alexander  R.  Thompson,  James  Mortimer  Montgomery  and  Robert  Olyphant,  on  behalf  of 
the  Society  of  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution,  successfully  negotiated  a  contract  for  the  purchase  of  the  property. 
At  the  same  time,  these  gentlemen  induced  the  city  to  rescind  the  resolution  authorizing  the  taking  of  the 
property  by  condemnation.  The  Mayor  told  them  that  they  were  the  only  delegation  which  had  called  on  him 
for  the  purpose  of  saving  the  city's  money.  Thus  the  City  of  New  York  was  saved  the  expense  of  acquiring  the 
property,  preserving  and  maintaining  it,  and  yet  the  restoration  of  this  shrine  of  patriotism  was  assured. 

At  the  time  the  property  wa9  purchased  it  was  subject  to  a  lease  with  several  years  to  run.  Before  the 
lease  expired  Mr.  Frederick  Samuel  Tallmadge,  late  president  of  the  Society,  died,  leaving  a  large  bequest  to 
the  Society.  This  furnished  ample  funds  for  the  restoration  of  the  Tavern,  which  was  planned  with  the  great- 
est care. 

1904,  July  30. — Transfer  of  the  property  to  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution  recorded  in  the  Registrar's  office. 
1906-7. — Restoration  of  the  building. 

1907,  May  1. — Office  of  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution  opened  here. 

1907,  December  4. — Formal  occupation  and  dedication  (on  the  124th  anniversary  of  Washington's  "Fare- 
well" here)  of  the  building  by  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution. 


[348] 


©liicst  Suainraa  iFirm  in  Nrui  $ork 

P.  Earillaril  &  (La.,  EHtabUaljfil  1T60 


AFTER  CAREFUL  INVESTIGATION  WE  ARE  SATISFIED  THAT  THIS  IS 
NEW  YORK'S  OLDEST  BUSINESS  HOUSE.  BY  THAT  WE  MEAN  ONE 
WITH  WHICH  SOME  MEMBER  OF  THE  SAME  FAMILY  HAS  ALWAYS 
BEEN  CONNECTED.  AND  IN  WHICH  THE  ORIGINAL  NAME  HAS  ALWAYS 
BEEN  USED.  THEIR  OLD  SNUFF  MILL.  ESTABLISHED  IN  1760.  IN 
THE  BRONX,  IS  STILL  STANDING.  THE  FIRM  NAME  OF  PETER  AND 
GEORGE  L0R1LLARD.  AS  TOBACCONISTS.  APPEARS  IN  THE  1796 
DIRECTORY  OF  NEW  YORK  CITY.  AT  42  CHATHAM  STREET.  AND  IN 
EVERY  ONE  SINCE.  THIS  PICTURE  WHICH  WE  SHOW  IS  THEIR  WARE- 
HOUSE AND  FACTORY  ON  CHAMBERS  STREET.  NEAR  CENTRE.  NOW 
OCCUPIED  BY  THE  NEW  MUNICIPAL  BUILDING  THIS  IS  ABOUT  1850. 
LATER  THEY  MOVED  TO  THE  BLOCK  BOUNDED  BY  FRANKLIN. 
LISPENARD  AND  CHURCH  STREETS  AND  WEST  BROADWAY.  AND 
FINALLY  TO  MARION.  NEW  JERSEY  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME  IN  153 
YEARS  THE  FIRM  HAS  NOW  NO  OFFICE  OR  WAREHOUSE  ACTUALLY 
IN  THE  CITY.  WHICH  IS  TO  BE  REGRETTED 

FROM   THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR    W  MCCULLUM. 


PICTURESQUE  DAYS  OF  THE  VOLUNTEER  FIRE 

DEPARTMENT 


WHEN  THE  BOYS  "RAN  WITH  THE  MACHINE" 

No  more  spectacular  or  thrilling  sight  was  seen  in  our  city  than  the  gathering 
of  the  clans  when  the  bell-tower  clanged  forth  a  midnight  alarm  and  the  boys  turned 
out  to  run  with  the  machine.  For  many  years  this  city  depended  entirely  upon 
a  volunteer  system. 

Early  in  1686  an  ordinance  was  enacted  that  every  house  having  two 
chimneys  should  be  provided  with  a  fire  bucket,  and  that  those  having  more  than 
two  fireplaces  should  have  two  buckets.    This,  however,  did  not  suffice,  and  it  was 
enacted,  in  1696,  that  every  tenant,  under  a  penalty,  should  procure  the  necessary 
number  of  buckets,  and  deduct  the  cost  of  them  from  the  rent.    The  practice  of 
having  every  house  supplied  with  fire  buckets  now  became  general,  and  was  con- 
tinued long  after  the  introduction  of  fire  engines.    If  a  fire  broke  out  at  night, 
the  watchman  gave  the  alarm  with  his  rattle,  and  knocked  at  the  doors  of  the 
houses  with  the  cry,  "Throw  out  your  buckets,"  the  alarm  being  further  spread 
by  the  ringing  of  the  bell  at  the  Fort  and  by  the  bells  in  the  steeples  of  the  dif- 
ferent churches.   When  the  inmates  of  a  house  were  aroused,  the  first  act  was  to 
throw  out  the  buckets  into  the  street,  which  were  of  sole  leather,  holding  about 
three  gallons,  and  were  always  hung  in  the  passage  close  to  the  door.    They  were 
picked  up  by  those  who  were  hastening  to  the  fire,  it  being  the  general  custom  for 
nearly  every  householder  to  hurry  to  the  fire,  whether  by  day  or  by  night,  and  ren- 
der his  assistance.    As  soon  as  possible,  two  lines  were  formed  from  the  fire  to  the 
nearest  well  or  pump,  and  when  that  gave  out,  the  line  was  carried  to  the  next  one 
or  to  the  river.    The  one  line  passed  up  the  full  buckets  and  the  empty  ones  were 
passed  down  the  other.    No  one  was  permitted  to  break  through  these  lines,  and  if 
any  one  attempted  to  do  so,  and  would  not  fall  in,  a  bucket  of  water  or  several 
were  instantly  thrown  over  him.    Each  bucket  was  marked  with  the  name  or 
number  of  the  owner,  and  when  the  fire  was  over,  they  were  all  collected  together 
and  taken  in  a  cart  belonging  to  the  City  Hall.   A  city  bellman  then  went  round 
to  announce  that  they  were  ready  for  delivery,  when  each  householder  sent  for  his 
buckets  and  hung  them  up  in  the  allotted  place,  ready  for  the  next  emergency. 

With  the  growth  of  the  city  this  somewhat  antiquated  method  of  fire-fighting 
acquired  a  more  responsible  management  and  the  volunteer  service  received  ever- 
increasing  support  from  the  city.  Engine-houses  were  provided  and  signal  towers 
maintained. 

The  day  of  the  volunteer  fire  laddie  in  New  York  was  certainly  a  picturesque 
era.    Thousands  still  remember  old  Harry  Howard,  the  last  of  the  clan.  Bill 


[351] 


Riley's  Fifth  Ward  Hotel 


Tweed  had  his  first  prominence  as  chief  of  Big  Six.  Hundreds  of  well-known 
New  Yorkers  were  members  of  this  company  or  of  that.  Riley's  Fifth  Ward 
Hotel,  on  the  corner  of  West  Broadway  and  Franklin  Street,  had  an  immensely 
tall  flagpole  for  those  days,  and  around  it  would  gather  many  of  the  engines  in  a 
friendly  contest  as  to  which  could  throw  the  highest  stream. 

If  as  a  boy  you  wandered  into  an  unfamiliar  part  of  the  city,  you  would  be  at 
once  asked  by  other  boys  what  hose  you  ran  with.  If  you  happened  to  be  in  Fourth 
Street,  you  would  answer  "47,"  or  if  in  the  Dry  Dock  region,  you  would  say  "Forest 
3."  These  would  change  to  "Live  Oak  44"  or  "Marion  9,"  as  the  case  might  be. 
Should  you  fail  to  answer  correctly,  a  good  punching  was  your  reward,  as  the 
small  boy  aped  the  rivalry  of  his  elders. 

In  the  beginning  and  for  a  long  time  afterwards,  the  Volunteers  did  excellent 
work.  But  the  city  grew  with  astonishing  rapidity  and  it  soon  became  a  physical 
impossibility  to  drag  the  machines  the  intolerable  distances  demanded,  and  reach 
the  scene  of  action  in  good  condition.  Naturally,  those  who  had  joined  to  protect 
their  immediate  vicinity  could  no  longer  respond  to  alarms  miles  away,  and  thus  a 
body  of  men  of  a  totally  different  character  from  the  original  "Fire  Laddies" 
usurped  their  places.  Politics  also  crept  in  and  soon  the  Volunteers  assumed  a  po- 
sition in  the  city's  civic  development  entirely  foreign  to  their  original  purpose. 
Fights  and  brawls  were  an  almost  constant  occurrence  at  fires,  and  soon  the  citizens 
knew  not  which  to  dread  most — a  fire  or  the  firemen.  It  is  a  matter  of  record  that 
they  consistently  and  persistently  opposed  the  introduction  of  nearly  every  new 
improvement  in  fire-fighting  apparatus  and  finally  brought  down  upon  themselves 
the  wrath  of  the  community,  and  with  it  their  own  extinction. 

Toward  the  end,  almost  1,000  men  would  appear  at  nearlj"-  every  fire.  An 
alarm  was  also  the  signal  for  a  general  outpouring  of  the  city's  worst  and  most 
dangerous  characters,  and  in  addition  to  the  near-riots  of  the  firemen  themselves 
were  added  the  looting,  robbing  and  pillaging  of  these  lawless  toughs.  Upon  the 
introduction  of  the  paid  department  these  abuses  to  a  great  extent  ceased  and  soon 
passed  away  entirely.  Nevertheless,  the  Volunteer  Fire  Laddie  in  Old  New  York 
was  a  brave  citizen,  an  intrepid  fighter,  and  repeatedly  endangered  his  life  with  no 
thought  of  the  consequences. 

For  many  years  they  served  the  city  with  rare  courage  and  unquestioned 
heroism.  That  their  services  were  valuable  and  are  still  remembered  with  great 
appreciation  there  is  no  doubt,  and  to  the  old  New  Yorker  the  recollection  of  the 
boys  "running  with  the  machine"  still  remains  an  inspiring  and  romantic  memory. 
Many  of  them  recall  with  zest  the  spirited  encounters  in  which  they  bore,  no  doubt, 
a  part.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  do  more  than  recall  this  interesting  feature  of 
picturesque  days  that  are  no  more.  To  the  reader  of  to-day  it  may  seem  that  the 
system  long  outlived  its  usefulness. 

That  New  York  City  with  a  population  of  nearly  a  million  souls  depended 
upon  a  Volunteer  Fire  Department  as  late  as  1865  sounds  like  a  joke.  Boston, 
Baltimore,  St.  Louis,  Cincinnati  and  many  other  cities  had  long  ago  abolished  the 
system  and  were  operating  a  paid  department  at  a  tremendous  saving.  There  were, 


[  352  ] 


COPT  RIGHT.  1913.    H.  C.  BROWN.  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^m 

QDlb  Irhnont  %amsa,  3tftftl?  Aupnur  anil  lBtlt  Bttnt,  IB93 


THESE  OLD  HOUSES  WERE  REPRESENTATIVE  OF  FIFTH  AVENUE 
WHEN  IT  WAS  STILL  THE  CENTRE  OF  FASHION  BELOW  23rd  STREET 
THEY  WERE  CONNECTED.  AND  OCCUPIED  BY  MR  AND  MRS  BELMONT 
AND  THEIR  CHILDREN  THE  PICTURE  GALLERY  EXTENDED  BACK  ON 
18th  STREET  THE  SITE  IS  OCCUPIED  BY  THE  CONSTABLE  BUILDING. 
IN  WHICH  ARE  THE  OFFICES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  TOBACCO  CO 


Volunteer  System  Antiquated 


all  told,  about  4,000  volunteers  in  the  service.  The  expense  for  the  last  year  of  its 
existence  was  over  $500,000,  merely  for  the  items  paid  for  by  the  city.  For  bell 
ringers  alone,  $38,000  was  spent.  The  system  was  antiquated  and  no  longer  prac- 
tical under  the  new  conditions.  The  new  paid  department  started  with  less  than 
600  members. 


AN  OLD-TIME  BASEBALL  TEAM:  1870  (SEE  PAGE  135) 


[355  ] 


GREAT  FIRES  IN  NEW  YORK 


Three  times  New  York  has  suffered  severely  from  fires,  in  one  of  which  she  was 
almost  annihilated.  That  was  in  1835.  The  property  loss,  considering  the  size  of 
the  city  at  the  time,  was  enormous.  It  is  still  referred  to  as  the  Great  Fire.  Those 
of  1776  and  1845,  while  destructive  enough  to  be  forever  chronicled,  did  not  ap- 
proach the  terrible  disaster  of  1835.  We  append  accounts  of  those  of  1835  and 
1776  from  contemporary  writers. 

Notwithstanding  the  huge  losses  in  1835,  it  was  less  than  a  year  before  rebuild- 
ing on  a  larger  and  better  scale  was  well  under  way,  and  the  vigor  and  promptness 
with  which  this  work  was  prosecuted  remain  unmatched  to  the  present  day. 

The  curious  pictures  which  were  published  both  here  and  abroad  of  the  Great 
Fire  in  1835  largely  exceed  in  interest  almost  any  other  view  of  New  York  at  that 
time.  The  ones  which  we  show,  from  the  collections  of  Mr.  Goelet,  Mr.  Davies 
and  Mr.  Pyne,  are  notable  as  among  the  best  examples  obtainable. 

CONTEMPORARY  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  GREAT  FIRE  IN  NEW  YORK, 
DECEMBER  17,  1835,  WHICH  PRACTICALLY  DESTROYED  THE  CITY 

(From  the  Mercantile  Advertiser  and  New  York  Advocate) 

A  little  before  9  o'clock  last  evening,  a  fire  broke  out  in  the  store  of  Comstock  & 
Andrews,  in  Merchant  Street,  which  theatened  extensive  destruction.  The  street  is  narrow, 
and  built  on  both  sides  with  high  stores,  principally  occupied  by  dry-goods  jobbers  and  im- 
porters. The  wind  blowing  a  gale  at  N.  W.,  the  thermometer  at  or  below  zero,  the  hydrants 
mostly  frozen,  and  the  engines  almost  unfit  for  service  in  consequence  of  the  freezing  of  the 
hose  from  their  exposure  the  preceding  night,  great  fears  of  extensive  damage  were  expressed 
at  the  commencement  of  the  fire  and  these  fears  have  been  more  than  realized. — Never  has  such 
a  conflagration  been  witnessed  in  this  City. — The  amount  of  property  destroyed  must  be 

MANY   MILLIONS   OF  DOLLARS. 

In  the  course  of  twenty  minutes  from  the  commencement  of  the  fire,  not  only  the  building 
in  which  it  originated,  but  the  whole  on  both  sides  of  the  street  to  Pearl  Street  were  in  a 
blaze.  Never  was  a  more  rapid  extension  of  the  flames.  The  stores  on  Pearl  Street  and  on  each 
side  of  Merchant  Street  were  soon  enveloped  in  the  devouring  element.  Soon  the  flames 
extended  across  to  the  south  side  of  Pearl  Street,  and  at  this  time,  Eleven  o'clock,  have 
destroyed  nearly  the  whole  block,  on  that  side  of  the  street  from  and  including  the  store  of 
Arthur  Tappan  &  Co.,  to  Wall  Street.  Thence  they  have  already  extended  to  Water  Street,  in- 
creasing in  strength  and  violence,  and  now  threaten  the  destruction  of  all  the  property  on 
Water,  Front,  and  South  Street,  from  Pearl  Street  to  the  river,  and  from  the  west  side  of  Wall 
Street  nearly  to  Old  Slip.  Some  vessels  in  Coffee  House  Slip  are  already  on  fire — the  night  is 
intensely  cold — and  the  scene  of  destruction  is  most  sublime  and  awful!  It  is  just  reported 
that  the  stores  in  Exchange  Place,  in  the  rear  of  the  Exchange,  have  taken  fire.    There  is  now 


[  356  ] 


fBmaimiag  in  1355 


AN  INTERESTING  VIEW  OF  BROADWAY  IN  1855.  SHOWING  DE  L  M  ON  I- 
CO  S  ON  THE  CORNER  OF  CHAMBERS  STREET.  AND  THE  CHEMICAL 
BANK.  WHICH  IS  STILL  IN  THE  SAME  LOCATION.  THE  SIGN  OF  THE 
FIRST  MAKERS  OF  FOUNTAIN  PENS  IS  SHOWN  ON  THE  BUILDING 
WITH  THE  HIGH  STOOP  ON  THE  CORNER —  PRINCE'S  PROTEAN  FOUN- 
TAIN PEN."  GOODYEAR'S  SUCCESSFUL  INVENTION  OF  VULCANIZING 
RUBBER  HAD  JUST  BROUGHT  HIS  PRODUCT  ON  THE  MARKET  AND 
HIS  FIRST  RETAIL  STORE  IS  SHOWN  HERE.  HEGEMAN.  CLARK  &  CO. 
—  FOREBEARS  OF  OUR  PRESENT  WELL-KNOWN  RIKER  -  HEGEMAN 
DRUG  STORES— ARE  ALSO  SHOWN  ON  THE  CORNER  ROBERT  RAIT 
WAS  THE  FASHIONABLE  JEWELER  AND  THE  TIFFANY  OF  HIS  DAY 
THE  IRVING  HOUSE.  NEXT  TO  DELMONICO'S.  WAS  A  POPULAR 
COMMERCIAL  HOTEL 

THE  TYPES  OF  PEOPLE  CORRECTLY  REPRESENT  THE  COSTUMES  OF 
THE  DAY.  AND  THE  COSMOPOLITAN  CHARACTER  OF  TH  E  CROWDS  IS 
SHOWN  IN  THE  SOLDIERS  AND  SAILORS.  THE  STAGES.  CARRIAGES. 
CURIOUS  TWO-WHEELED  HANSOMS.  WAGONS  AND  TRUCKS  ARE 
ALSO  AUTHENTIC. 

THIS  IS  ANOTHER  OF  THE  FAMOUS  "STEPHENSON  VIEWS" 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  ROBERT  GOELET. 


Progress  of  the  Fire 


a  loud  explosion  of  powder  or  the  bursting  of  casks  of  spirituous  liquors  in  a  store  in  Water 
or  Front  Street.    The  engines  can  do  nothing  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  flames. 

Half  past  11. — The  flames  are  now  raging  in  every  direction  from  the  place  where  they  origi- 
nated. All  the  buildings  in  Exchange  Street,  below  the  Exchange,  are  destroyed — three  or 
four  of  the  buildings  in  Exchange  Place  are  on  fire,  and  the  whole  block  to  William  Street,  as 
well  as  the  Exchange,  is  in  danger.    The  wind  has  somewhat  subsided. 

It  is  impossible  to  calculate  the  amount  of  damage  already  sustained — such  goods  as 
could  be  hastily  saved  are  strewed  in  the  streets.  We  shall  annex  a  list  of  such  of  the  occu- 
pants of  the  stores  and  sufferers  as  we  can  gather  in  the  confusion  that  prevails.  Many  im- 
mense stocks  of  goods  are  consumed.  It  is  believed  that  more  than  one  hundred  stores  and 
warehouses,  including  many  of  the  most  valuable  in  the  city,  are  already  destroyed. 

Twelve  o'clock. — The  rear  of  the  Exchange  is  now  on  fire,  which  is  extending  into  the 
Post  Office.  A  strong  force  of  firemen  is  placed  there,  and  hopes  are  entertained  that  this 
building  will  be  saved. — The  fire  is  still  extending  to  South  Street — some  of  the  vessels  be- 
tween Coffee  House  and  Old  Slips  have  taken  fire. 

One  o'clock. — The  Exchange  still  on  fire  in  the  rear.  The  letters  have  been  removed  from 
the  Post  Office.  There  is  now  no  knowing  where  the  flames  will  be  stayed — the  hydrants  are 
exhausted — the  hose  of  many  of  the  engines  are  frozen  and  useless,  and  the  flames  extending. 
Never  was  a  more  awful  sight  than  is  now  presented.  The  fire  is  yet  extending  west  in  Pearl 
Street — and  will  probably  extend  to  Old  Slip,  and  sweep  off  all  the  valuable  buildings  on  the 
three  squares  bounded  by  Pearl,  South,  and  Wall  Streets  and  Old  Slip. — The  buildings  on  the 
west  side  of  Wall  Street,  between  the  Exchange  and  Pearl  Street,  are  yet  standing,  some  of 
them  much  damaged  in  the  rears.  Nearly  the  whole  block,  bounded  by  Merchant  Street,  Ex- 
change Place,  William  Street,  and  Pearl  Street,  an  immense  pile  of  new  and  valuable  ware- 
houses, is  now  on  fire  and  many  of  them  already  reduced  to  ashes.  The  scene  grows  worse  and 
worse — the  Exchange,  it  is  said,  cannot  be  saved.  If  this  is  destroyed,  all  Wall  Street  below 
William  Street  must  share  the  same  fate,  and  expose  to  destruction  the  buildings  east  to  an 
incalculable  extent. 

The  stores  of  Howland  &  Aspinwall,  Moses  Taylor,  Smith  &  Town,  Osborn  &  Young,  and 
the  whole  on  South  Street,  Front  Street,  Water  Street,  and  Pearl  Street,  between  Coffee  House 
and  Old  Slips  are  rapidly  consuming.  Fears  are  now  entertained  that  the  fire  will  extend  on 
Pearl  Street,  below  Old  Slip.  The  Gazette  office  and  many  of  the  merchants  are  clearing  out. 
The  Exchange,  it  is  now  said,  cannot  be  saved,  and  we  are  preparing  to  move  our  publishing 
office  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street. 

Three  o'clock. — The  Exchange  is  in  ruins — it  is  reported  that  several  persons  have  been 
killed,  or  several  wounded  by  the  falling  of  one  of  the  walls. — The  fire  has  now  extended  north 
from  the  Exchange  to  William  Street,  on  both  sides,  and  threatens  to  continue  through  to 
Broad  Street.  The  Garden  Street  Church  is  reported  to  be  on  fire.  The  east  side  of  Wall 
Street  is  yet  safe.  The  scene  of  desolation  from  Pearl  Street  to  the  East  River  is  awful.  A 
messenger  has  just  been  dispatched  to  the  Navy  Yard,  for  a  supply  of  powder  to  blow  up 
buildings  in  order  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  flames.  The  wind  continues  high — and  there 
is  yet  no  favorable  prospect  of  any  cessation  of  the  flames — they  have  now  reached  the  rear  of 
Broad  Street. 

Pearl  Street,  from  Wall  Street  to  Old  Slip  on  both  sides,  all  destroyed. 
Water  Street,  from  Wall  Street  to  Old  Slip,  all  destroyed. 
Front  Street,  from  Wall  Street  to  Old  Slip,  all  destroyed. 
South  Street,  from  Wall  Street  to  Old  Slip,  all  destroyed. 


[359] 


Enormous  Pecuniary  Loss 


Merchant  Street  all  destroyed. 

Exchange  Place  to  William  Street  all  destroyed. 

William  Street,  from  Wall  Street  nearly  to  Old  Slip — destroyed. 

Four  o'clock. — There  is  hope  that  the  fire  in  Wall  Street  will  be  stopped  by  the  American 
Insurance  Co.,  and  that  that  building,  and  those  below,  to  Pearl  Street,  will  be  saved.  The 
buildings  above  the  Am.  Ins.  Office  on  the  west  side  of  Wall  Street  to  William  Street,  includ- 
ing the  Exchange,  are  all  destroyed — and  two  or  three  above  William  Street.  The  fire  is  still 
raging  towards  Broad  Street  in  the  rear  of  Wall  Street,  and  may  extend  to  the  buildings  on 
the  latter.    The  east  side  of  Wall  Street  is  yet  safe. 

The  flames  are  yet  extending  down  William  Street;  the  buildings  on  that  street  and 
fronting  Hanover  Square,  including  the  Gazette  office,  are  burnt  down. 

This  is  a  terrible  calamity  to  New  York.  It  is  believed  that  more  than  two  hundred  valu- 
able stores  and  warehouses  are  destroyed,  with  the  principal  part  of  their  contents.  No 
estimate  of  the  amount  of  damage  can  be  made — some  individual  stocks  of  goods  are  estimated 
as  high  as  two,  three  and  four  hundred  thousand  dollars.  The  loss  cannot  fall  much  short  of 
TWENTY  MILLIONS  OF  DOLLARS— and  many  are  of  opinion  that  it  will  exceed 
THIRTY  MILLIONS ! 

We  have  just  heard  the  Mayor  say  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  arrest  the  flames 
before  reaching  Broad  Street  by  blowing  up  one  or  more  of  Mr.  Lord's  stores  with  powder. 

Nearly  the  whole  of  Lord's  elegant  row  of  stores  in  Exchange  Place,  and  the  Church 
opposite  are  in  ruins — and  the  flames  extending  rapidly  towards  Broad  Street. 

The  Daily  Advertiser  and  the  American  newspaper  offices  are  destroyed,  with  all  the 
machine  presses  of  the  establishments. 

Five  o'clock. — We  go  to  press  while  the  fire  is  still  raging.  It  is  said  to  have  extended 
below  Old  Slip  on  Pearl  Street — and  there  is  no  calculation  where  its  ravages  will  be  bounded. 

Half  past  five. — The  flames  are  progressing  down  Pearl  Street  on  the  south  side,  and 
have  enveloped  all  the  buildings  to  and  including  the  Pearl  Street  House,  No.  88.  This  infor- 
mation is  brought  to  us  by  a  person  just  from  the  immediate  neighborhood. 

The  Post  Office,  in  which  everything  was  saved,  has  been  removed  to  the  Custom  House. 
> — No  mails  have  been  delivered  as  yet  to-day,  but  we  are  to  have  a  delivery  this  afternoon. 

POSTSCRIPT.  One  o'clock  P.  M. — The  fire  has  been  mastered,  and  we  rejoice  to  learn, 
did  not  cross  Coenties  Slip,  nor  advance  any  farther  south  upon  Pearl  Street. 

We  are  gratified  that  we  are  enabled  to  state  that  the  banks,  with  one  accord,  are  acting 
in  this  emergency  upon  a  scale  of  the  most  extended  liberality.  To-day,  the  officers  have 
"taken  the  responsibility,"  in  all  necessary  cases,  of  "doing  as  they  would  be  done  by."  A 
meeting  of  bank  directors  is  to  be  held  to-morrow  for  farther  consultation. 

Mr.  Leggett,  of  the  Telegraph,  has  made  arrangements  to  have  the  telegraph  from  Holt's 
Hotel.    It  will  be  ready  in  a  few  days. 

We  are  requested  to  say  that  there  will  be  a  meeting  of  the  citizens  this  afternoon,  at 
4  o'clock,  at  the  Mayor's  Office  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  patrol. 

Third  Regiment  N.  Y.  State  Akttlleey — Washington  Grays 

New  York,  Dec.  17,  1835,  10  o'clock  P.  M. 
In  compliance  with  division  and  brigade  orders  of  this  morning,  the  regiment  is  directed 
to  parade  this  day,  in  full  uniform,  in  front  of  the  City  Hall,  at  S  o'clock  P.  M.,  to  aid  the 
civil  authorities  in  the  protection  of  property,  and  the  preservation  of  order  in  the  present 
distressing  calamity. 

By  order  of       Col.   GEO.   P.  MORRIS. 

MAXWELL,  Adjutant. 

[360] 


(§lu  GII?rl0ra  Mlagc:  Sraiantrr  of  (Ulrumti  (£.  Maare.  23ro  g>lrrrt  anb  Niutlj  Aueniif 


CLEMENT  C.  MOORE.  A  SON  OF  BISHOP  MOORE.  WAS  A  DISTIN- 
GUISHED MEMBER  OF  THE  GENERAL  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY  IN 
OLD  CHELSEA  VILLAGE.  ALTHOUGH  HE  WAS  A  VERY  LEARNED  MAN. 
NONE  OF  HIS  SERIOUS  WORK  FOR  WHICH  HE  WAS  MUCH  ESTEEMED 
IN  HIS  DAY  HAS  COME  DOWN  TO  US. 

HE  FOUND  THE  ROAD  TO  FAME.  HOWEVER.  IN  THOSE  ACCIDENTAL 
BUT  DELIGHTFUL  VERSES  KNOWN  TO  CHILDHOOD  THE  WIDE  WORLD 
OVER: 

'Twas   the   night  before  Christmas  when 

all  through  the  house 
Not  a  creature  was  stirring,  not  even  a 

mouse/' 


ON  A  RAINY  AFTERNOON  HE  WROTE  THEM  IN  THE  HOUSE  SHOWN 
ABOVE.  TO  AMUSE  HIS  GRANDCHILDREN. 


Of  Incendiaby  Oeigin 


THE  FIRE  IN  NEW  YORK  IN  1776 

A  Revolutionary  Soldier's  Description  of  it  as  Seen  from  a  Ship's  Deck 

Mr.  George  H.  Richardson,  the  well-known  authority  on  Americana,  kindly 
contributes  the  following  account  of  the  fire  of  1776.  It  is  from  a  book  published 
in  1812,  written  by  John  Joseph  Henry,  a  patriot  who  was  captured  at  Quebec. 
He  was  transferred  to  a  prison  ship  in  New  York  harbor,  from  which  he  viewed 
the  catastrophe.  After  narrating  the  escape  of  three  of  the  prisoners,  he  con- 
tinues : 

"A  short  time  after  the  foregoing  occurrences  a  most  beautiful  and  luminous  but  baleful 
sight  occurred  to  us,  that  is,  the  city  of  New  York  on  fire.  One  night,  September  22,  the 
watch  on  deck  gave  a  loud  notice  of  this  disaster.  Running  up  on  deck  we  could  perceive  a 
light  which  at  the  distance  we  were  from  it  (four  miles)  was  apparently  of  the  size  of  the  flame 
of  a  candle.  This  light  appeared  to  me  to  be  the  burning  of  an  old  and  noted  tavern  called 
'The  Fighting  Cocks'  (where  ere  this  I  had  lodged)  to  the  east  of  the  Battery  and  near 
the  wharf.  The  wind  was  southwardly  and  blew  a  fresh  gale ;  the  flame  at  this  place  because  of 
the  wind  increased  rapidly.  In  a  moment  we  saw  another  light  at  a  great  distance  from  the 
first,  up  the  North  River.  The  other  light  seemed  to  be  an  original,  distinct  and  new  formed 
fire  near  a  celebrated  tavern  in  the  Broadway  called  'White  Hall.'  Our  anxiety  for  the  fate 
of  so  fine  a  city  caused  much  solicitude,  as  we  harbored  suspicions  that  the  enemy  had  fired 
it.  The  flames  were  fanned  by  the  briskness  of  the  breeze  and  drove  the  destructive  effects  of 
the  elements  on  all  sides.  When  the  fire  reached  the  spire  of  a  large  steeple,  south  of  the  tavern, 
which  was  attached  to  a  large  church,  the  effect  upon  the  eye  was  astonishingly  grand.  If  we 
could  divest  ourselves  of  the  knowledge  that  it  was  the  property  of  our  fellow  citizens  which 
was  consuming,  the  view  might  have  been  esteemed  sublime,  if  not  pleasing.  The  deck  of  our 
ship  for  many  hours  was  lighted  as  at  noonday.  In  the  commencement  of  the  conflagration  we 
observed  many  boats  putting  off  from  the  fleet,  rowing  speedily  toward  the  city ;  our  boat  was 
of  the  number.  This  circumstance  repelled  the  idea  that  our  enemies  were  the  incendiaries,  for 
indeed  they  professedly  went  in  aid  of  the  inhabitants.  The  boat  returned  about  daylight,  and 
from  the  relation  of  the  officer  and  the  crew  we  clearly  discerned  that  the  burning  of  New  York 
was  the  act  of  some  madcap  Americans.  The  sailors  told  us  in  their  blunt  manner  that  they 
had  seen  one  American  hanging  by  his  heels,  dead,  having  a  bayonet  wound  through  his  breast. 
They  named  him  by  his  Christian  and  surname,  which  they  saw  imprinted  on  his  arm ;  they 
averred  he  was  caught  in  the  act  of  firing  the  houses.  They  told  us  also  that  they  had  seen 
one  person,  who  was  taken  in  the  act,  tossed  into  the  fire,  and  that  several  who  were  stealing, 
and  suspected  as  incendiaries,  were  bayonetted.  Summary  justice  is  at  no  time  laudable,  but 
in  this  instance  it  may  have  been  correct.  *  *  *  The  testimony  we  received  from  the  sailors,  my 
own  view  of  the  distinct  beginnings  of  the  fire  in  various  spots  remote  from  each  other  and  the 
manner  of  its  spreading  impressed  my  mind  with  the  belief  that  the  burning  of  the  city  was  the 
doings  of  the  most  low  and  vile  of  persons,  for  the  purpose  not  only  of  thieving  but  of  devas- 
tation. This  seemed  to  be  the  general  sense,  not  only  of  the  British  but  that  of  the  prisoners 
then  aboard  the  transports.  Lying  directly  south  of  the  city  and  in  a  range  with  Broadway, 
we  had  a  fair  and  full  view  of  the  whole  process.  The  persons  in  the  ships  nearer  to  the  town 
than  we  were  uniformly  held  the  same  opinion.  It  was  not  until  some  years  afterwards  that  a 
doubt  was  created,  but  for  the  honor  of  our  country  and  its  good  name  an  ascription  was 
made  of  the  firing  of  the  city  to  accidental  circumstances." 


[363] 


SOME  FAMOUS  COLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  NEW  YORK  VIEWS 


By  J.  H.  Jordan 

It  will  doubtless  be  a  matter  of  some  surprise  for  the  average  New  Yorker  to 
know  that  there  are  in  this  city  collections  of  old  views,  the  value  of  which  in  some 
instances  cannot  be  expressed  in  less  than  six  figures,  and  the  strangest  part  of  it 
all  is  that  what  was  regarded  as  trash  at  the  time  of  its  production  is  now  among 
the  most  highly  priced  pieces  in  the  collector's  catalogue. 

Many  of  the  choicest  subjects  were  produced  as  advertising  devices.  The 
Stephenson  views,  for  instance,  show  this  feature  very  plainly,  each  building  being 
marked  by  a  sign  containing  the  business  and  name  of  the  occupant.  These  were 
undoubtedly  produced  in  large  quantities,  and  the  cost  of  each  copy  was  compara- 
tively trifling.  These  views  were  subsequently  mailed  to  the  firm's  customers,  and 
were  thus  widely  distributed,  not  only  in  our  own  country,  but  particularly  in 
South  America  and  China,  as  merchants  were  much  given  to  this  way  of  adver- 
tising. Stephenson's  work  was  remarkable  for  its  accuracy.  The  buildings  were 
exactly  as  they  then  appeared,  and  as  a  rule  but  one  firm  would  occupy  the  prem- 
ises. The  vehicles,  crowds  on  the  street,  the  occasional  foreign  figures  to  be  found 
among  them,  were  thoroughly  characteristic  of  New  York's  cosmopolitan  popula- 
tion. With  scarcely  an  exception,  all  the  buildings  portrayed  in  Stephenson's 
views  have  long  since  disappeared ;  consequently,  what  we  now  know  of  the  city  of 
that  period  is  only  available  to  us  through  these  views. 

In  the  collection  of  Mr.  Robert  Goelet  are  several  of  these  choice  lithographs, 
also  some  remarkable  and  curious  views  of  the  Battery,  of  which  the  figures  are 
represented  as  characters  in  Dickens.  This  was  undoubtedly  produced  at  the  time 
Dickens  visited  this  country,  and  the  print  is  one  of  rare  interest.  There  is  also  in 
this  collection  a  complete  set  of  Valentine's  Manuals  in  an  excellent  state  of  pres- 
ervation, and  a  file  of  the  Mirror,  at  that  time  the  leading  society  journal  of  the 
town.  The  Goelet  Collection  is  noted  for  the  completeness  with  which  it  has  been 
gathered  together  and  for  its  unusually  excellent  condition.  The  examples  shown 
in  this  book  are  only  a  few  of  the  more  important  ones,  but  serve  to  give  an  idea 
of  the  extent  and  value  of  the  gathering  as  a  whole. 

In  making  his  collection  Mr.  Percy  R.  Pyne,  2nd,  has  enjoyed  two  of  the 
most  essential  requisites:  a  thorough  and  intimate  knowledge  of  the  subject  and  the 
resources  to  acquire  the  treasures.  The  famous  Schenk  view  of  New  York  is  quite 
large  in  size,  and  the  coloring  is  softened  to  the  point  where  it  resembles  a  piece  of 
rare  old  tapestry.  The  work  itself  has  more  to  do  with  the  geography  of  North 
and  South  America  than  of  New  York.  The  view  of  the  latter  is  only  one  of  five 
which  adorn  the  bottom  of  the  map  in  the  way  of  ornament,  and  is  classed  along 
with  Panama  and  other  similar  places.    This  would  indicate  that  New  York  was 


[364] 


Srcabmaii  attii  1  UOtly  g>trrrt  in  1S9B 


THIS  IS  THE  OLD  FURNISS  HOMESTEAD.  WHICH  UNTIL  A  FEW  YEARS 
AGO  WAS  STILL  IN  THE  OUTSKIRTS.  THE  SITE  HAS  SINCE  BEEN 
COVERED  WITH  APARTMENTS. 

FROM    THE  COLLECTION   OF  MR.  H.  B  HALL. 


Treasures  of  Different  Collectors 


only  of  relative  importance,  and  not  much  more  widely  known  than  Panama.  The 
view  was  printed  toward  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  but  was  probably 
drawn  twenty  or  twenty-five  years  earlier.  Mr.  Pyne  picked  up  his  copy  in  Ger- 
many, and  it  is  so  far  the  only  known  copy  in  existence.  Much  of  the  interest  in 
both  the  Pyne  and  Goelet  collections  arises  from  the  extreme  rarity  of  the  views. 
Both  of  them  possess  views  that  are  unique,  and  not  to  be  seen  elsewhere.  Mr. 
Pyne's  collection  is  a  notable  one  in  every  respect,  and  is  continually  enriched  by 
unique  accessories. 

The  late  Mr.  William  F.  Havemeyer  is  another  New  Yorker  whose  researches 
in  this  field  have  resulted  in  a  surprisingly  interesting  collection.  The  fire  scenes 
are  of  particular  interest,  notably  the  destruction  of  the  city  in  1835.  This  is  a 
French  view  done  in  pastel,  and  shows  the  burning  city  from  Brooklyn  Heights. 
Among  so  many  interesting  items  it  is  difficult  to  select  one  for  mention  above  an- 
other. There  has  been,  however,  much  care  and  knowledge  displayed  in  the  selec- 
tions, and  the  collection  is  one  that  enjoys  great  distinction. 

Mr.  I.  N.  Phelps  Stokes  is  also  the  possessor  of  a  remarkable  aggregation 
of  famous  subjects.  Mr.  Stokes  has  paid  special  attention  to  the  scientific  side 
of  New  York's  formation,  and  his  knowledge  of  the  substrata  and  subterranean 
waters  of  the  island  is  wonderfully  shown  in  the  remarkable  drawings  illustrating 
these  items.  Mr.  Stokes's  zeal  and  enthusiasm  in  the  pursuit  of  unusual  prints 
has  been  rewarded  by  a  most  interesting  and  delightful  result.  He  expects  soon 
to  give  us  an  insight  into  his  treasures  in  a  book  on  which  he  has  been  at  work 
for  several  years.  While  it  has  been  a  labor  of  love,  it  is,  at  the  same  time,  a  work 
of  considerable  detail.  Many  famous  foreign  engravers  have  been  at  work  on  the 
reproductions,  and  when  the  book  is  finished  it  will  be  a  valuable  addition  to  the 
iconography  of  New  York. 

A  partial  list  of  all  the  pictures  thus  owned  in  New  York  would  be  a  very 
formidable  undertaking,  and  it  is  equally  hard  to  determine,  in  the  midst  of  so 
much  merit,  just  which  collection  would  be  considered  the  most  valuable  and  inter- 
esting, as  each  one  possesses  its  own  peculiar  order  of  merit  which  places  it  in  a 
class  by  itself.  It  may  be  Tiebout's  view  of  the  City  Hall;  or  it  may  be  a  copy 
of  the  first  Directory  of  the  city,  or,  possibly,  Denton's  first  printed  description  of 
the  city.   Each  collection  has  its  individual  claim  to  distinction. 

The  wonderful  collection  of  Mr.  J.  Clarence  Davies  embraces  a  wider  scope, 
and  possibly  a  more  recent  selection  than  is  noted  in  the  others.  Some  collectors 
do  not  care  for  anything  after  the  Revolution;  others  do  not  care  to  go  beyond 
1800;  while  others  specialize  on  the  scenes  that  are  still  within  the  memory  of  men 
living.  Mr.  Davies  includes  both.  This  collection  also  rejoices  in  the  possession 
of  the  first  Directory  of  New  York,  which  is  in  itself  a  distinction  to  any  collection. 
There  is  some  talk  of  a  special  building  for  the  Davies  Collection,  as  it  is  now  stored 
in  a  building  which  is  far  from  fire-proof,  and,  as  Mr.  Davies's  researches  have 
carried  him  to  a  wider  and  perhaps  more  interesting  period  from  certain  points  of 
view,  the  destruction  of  his  collection  would  be  a  city-wide  calamity.  The  books 
and  papers  relating  to  old  New  York  possessed  by  Mr.  Davies  are  remarkable  in 


[367] 


Growing  List  of  Collectors 


their  scope  and  extent.  Rare  first  editions  are  frequent,  and  all  the  older  maps 
and  directories  of  the  city  figure  in  this  remarkable  assemblage. 

Mr.  John  N.  Golding  has  paid  more  attention  to  the  middle  of  the  last  cen- 
tury than  any  of  the  others.  His  views  of  Pine  Street,  showing  the  old  stoop  rail- 
ings, and  other  sections  of  the  lower  part  of  the  city  are  remarkable.  He  has  also 
picked  up  an  amazing  amount  of  railroad  literature,  consisting  of  time-tables,  an- 
nouncements, tickets,  etc.,  of  the  New  York  Central.  His  collection  is  considera- 
bly enriched  by  new  purchases,  and  is  one  of  the  best  known. 

Robert  E.  Dowling  is  another  enthusiast  whose  collection  embraces  some  very 
remarkable  specimens.  It  is  particularly  strong  in  Jones  and  Newman's  views. 
He  has  one  of  the  most  perfect  copies  known,  showing  Broadway  from  the  Bat- 
tery to  Worth  Street.  This  was  an  advertising  device,  and  each  building  on 
Broadway  of  that  period  (1848)  is  correctly  drawn,  and  also  bears  the  name  of 
the  houses  clearly  marked.  These  Jones  and  Newman  views,  by  the  way,  have 
become  among  the  most  eagerly  sought  for  items  connected  with  the  old  city,  and 
if  either  of  these  gentlemen  were  still  living  and  heard  of  the  enormous  sums  paid 
for  their  modest  little  pamphlets,  it  would  be  enough  to  cause  them  great  perturba- 
tion of  spirit.  In  all  probability  they  were  originally  sold  at  not  over  two  and  a 
half  cents  in  quantities,  and  12^2  cents  retail.  A  really  good  copy  of  this  print  is 
now  held  at  $700. 

Strange  to  relate,  the  idea  of  collecting  these  old  views  seems  to  have  origi- 
nated with  the  real-estate  men.  The  late  Mr.  Neill,  who  was  for  many  years  a 
real-estate  editor  in  this  city,  was  indefatigable  in  his  search  for  this  material,  and, 
being  a  pioneer  in  the  field,  he  accumulated  an  extremely  remarkable  collection. 
Of  late  years,  however,  the  infection  has  spread,  till  now  it  includes  men  in  varied 
walks  of  life. 

While  we  have  been  able  to  enumerate  only  a  few  of  the  most  prominent  col- 
lectors, the  list  is  constantly  growing.  The  late  Mr.  Morgan  had  begun  to  take 
an  interest  in  the  subject,  and  the  present  Mr.  Morgan  has  for  some  time  paid 
more  or  less  attention  to  prints  pertaining  to  Broad  and  Wall  Streets.  Mr.  N.  F. 
Palmer,  Mr.  Harris  D.  Colt,  Mr.  H.  L.  Pratt,  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange 
Luncheon  Club,  the  Down  Town  Club,  Mr.  John  D.  Crimmins,  Mr.  Thomas  E. 
Crimmins,  Mr.  W.  Loring  Andrews,  Mr.  Simeon  Ford,  Mr.  Robert  L.  Sisson, 
Mr.  Henry  Morgenthau,  Mr.  Amos  F.  Eno,  Mr.  Laurence  B.  Elliman,  Mr.  Her- 
bert B.  Ashforth,  and  Mr.  George  R.  Read  can  also  be  included  in  the  list  of 
those  entitled  to  honorable  mention. 


[368] 


A  VIEW  OF  PARK  PLACE  SHOWING  FOUR  OLD-FASHIONED.  HIP- 
ROOFED  HOUSES.  SURVIVALS  OF  THE  PERIOD  WHEN  THIS  STREET 
WAS  ONE  OF  THE  MOST  SELECT  RESIDENTIAL  SECTIONS  OF  THE 
CITY.  LORDLY  SPRUCE  AND  ELM  TREES  LINED  BOTH  SIDES  OF  THE 
STREET.  AND  THE  "PLACE"  ENDED  AT  CHURCH  STREET.  WHERE 
THE  CHARMING  GROUNDS  OF  KING  S  COLLEGE  (COLUMBIA)  BEGAN. 
AT  THE  BROADWAY  ENTRANCE  CITY  HALL  PARK  FACED  IT  WITH  A 
BEAUTIFUL  FOUNTAIN.  HALF  HIDDEN  BY  LUXURIANT  FOLIAGE. 
ALTOGETHER  IT  WAS  A  DELIGHTFUL  RETREAT  AND  THE  CENTRE 
OF  FASHION  TILL  LATE  IN  THE  TWENTIES.  OUR  PICTURE  IS  ABOUT 
1850.  AND  AN  OLD-TIME  NAME  IN  THAT  SECTION  IS  NOTED  ON  ONE 
OF  THE  WAGONS  — DEVLIN  ft  CO..  THE  CLOTHIERS. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  M  R    JOHN  0  CRIMMINS 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  EARLIER  DAYS 


A  most  interesting  volume  for  old  Xew  Yorkers  is  Mr.  Charles  H.  Haswell's 
"Reminiscences."  Mr.  Haswell  was  born  in  1816  and  lived  almost  a  century. 
The  following  is  only  one  of  the  many  items  of  rare  interest  in  this  work. 

Furnaces,  hall  stoves  and  the  air-tight  stoves  for  bedrooms  were  absent  from  the  houses  of  this  period 
(1830)  and  in  severe  weather  the  best  of  these  houses  were  much  less  comfortable  than  many  stables  of  this 
day.  Warming-pans  for  beds  were  all  but  a  necessity  for  elderly  persons,  bedrooms  being  so  cold  that  wash- 
ing in  the  morning  often  could  be  done  only  after  first  breaking  the  ice  in  the  pitcher.  The  facilities  for  pro- 
curing a  light  for  fire  comprised  the  construction  of  a  tinder-box,  filled  with  tinder  of  well-scorched  rag,  a  flint 
and  a  suitable  piece  of  steel;  or  by  the  rapid  operation  of  a  steel  wheel,  rotated  by  drawing  a  long  cord 
previously  wound  around  its  axis;  to  the  face  of  this  was  applied  a  flint,  the  sparks  elicited  by  it  falling 
upon  the  tinder,  to  which,  when  ignited,  a  sulphur  bituminous  match,  as  it  was  termed,  was  applied  and 
lighted. 

The  chief  fuel  of  the  time,  and  for  many  years  after,  was  wood,  sold  by  the  load  from  vessels  that 
brought  it  to  the  city,  each  load  measured  by  a  City  inspector.  It  was  in  full  length  (four  feet)  delivered 
in  the  street  in  front  of  buildings  or  residences,  where  it  was  sawed  by  wood  sawyers  (colored)  in  two  lengths 
only,  and  occasionally  split.  Steam  sawing  and  splitting  mills  were  not  introduced  until  very  many  years  after, 
and  if  wood-yards  existed,  I  do  not  recollect  one.  Coal  was  very  little  in  use  for  domestic  purposes  except  in 
parlor  grates;  in  this  vicinity  it  was  commercially  termed  Liverpool  or  Newcastle,  from  the  names  of  the  ports 
from  which  it  was  shipped,  and  as  it  all  came  from  abroad  was  generally  known  as  "sea-coal." 


NEW-YORK,  AUGUST,  1,  1814. 

THIS  CERTIFIES  that  on  paying  the  sum  of  Five  Hundred  Dollars, 
tT^y&A*  J?*-^^  S0t**c^'  or  his  assignee  will  be  en. 
titled  to  one  share  in  the  HUDSON  MIVEM  STEAM"BOAT  STOCK, 
as  per  articles  of  agreement  with  Robert  Fulton,  bearing  date  the  thirtieth  day  of 
May,  1814,  and  a  certain  memorandum  of  agreement  with  him,  bearing  date  the  first 
day  of  August,  1814,  which  stock  is  only  transferable  on  the  books  of  said  Company  on 
producing  this  certificate. 

RECEIVED  of  the  above  mentioned  sum  Two  Hundred  Dollar*. 


FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  WILLIAM    BARCLAY  PARSONS. 


[371] 


DAYS  OF  SMOOTH-SHAVEN  FACES  AND 
OTHER  STRANGE  CUSTOMS 

Mr.  Haswell  speaks  of  another  fashion  which  has  now  reappeared,  and  adds 
some  other  interesting  facts: 

A  young  gentleman  of  this  city,  son  of  a  well-known  and  respectable  resident, 
returned  from  brief  travel  in  Europe  with  his  upper  lip  adorned  with  a  moustache. 
This  was  the  very  first  display  of  one  by  an  American  in  this  city,  and  it  was  so 
observedly  singular  and  exceptional  that  it  occasioned  much  comment  and  criticism. 
So  great  was  this  departure  from  the  custom  of  our  people  that  it  was  not  until 
1836,  and  then  only  by  progressive  invasion  upon  the  general  prejudice,  that  such 
exhibitions,  as  they  were  termed,  were  at  all  assented  to;  even  so  late  as  1850  mous- 
taches were  termed  "monstrous"  by  persons  of  taste,  culture  and  sober  judgment. 

There  was  a  feature  in  social  requirements  of  1830,  prejudices,  as  some  would 
say,  that  was  as  decided  as  it  may  be  incredible  to  many  persons  of  the  present 
time;  viz.,  no  man  who  was  known  to  smoke  a  cigar  in  the  streets  or  at  his  office 
in  business  hours  could  have  procured  a  discount  at  any  bank  in  the  city. 

Hogs  were  permitted  still  to  run  at  large  in  the  streets  (1825),  although  the 
practice  was  objected  to  by  most  of  the  citizens,  and  the  frequent  mortifying 
references  thereto  of  Boston  and  Philadelphia  editors  added  to  the  opposition ;  yet 
the  common  opinion  that  the  hogs  were  the  best  scavengers  supported,  for  many 
years  after,  the  indifference  to  the  practice  shown  by  the  Common  Council.  In 
support  of  this  inaction  it  is  to  be  considered  that  at  this  period  all  garbage  and 
refuse  matter  from  dwellings  was  thrown  into  the  street.  Some  years  after  an 
ordinance  of  the  Common  Council  authorized  the  furnishing  and  equipment  of  a 
cart  and  operators  to  arrest  swine  in  the  streets.  The  advent  of  the  cart  and  the 
endeavor  to  arrest  the  swine  were  attended  with  such  forcible  opposition  by  men 
and  boys  that  the  ordinance  necessarily  became  a  dead  letter,  until  the  amour 
propre  of  our  citizens,  despite  the  unpopularity  of  the  cart,  was  aroused,  the  enor- 
mity of  the  practice  was  realized,  and  swine  were  removed  from  the  street. 

At  this  time  (1823)  and  for  many  years  after  there  was  such  a  lack  of  amuse- 
ments that  young  men  and  boys  were  glad  to  avail  themselves  even  of  an  evening 
book  auction,  and,  as  a  result,  there  were  many  of  these,  and  well  attended. 

On  July  4, 1827,  negro  slavery  in  the  State  was  abolished. 

The  Advocate,  a  leading  paper,  in  its  columns  of  the  31st  of  September,  1826, 
published  the  fact,  with  expressions  of  its  disapprobation,  that  a  young  man  had 
been  seen  smoking  in  the  streets  so  early  as  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Street 
gas  lamps  were  first  lighted  in  this  month. 


[372  ] 


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BEGINNING  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY 


The  originator  of  this  well-known  and  popular  society  was  Mr.  John  Pintard, 
one-time  editor  of  the  Daily  Advertiser  and  renowned  for  his  many  public  bene- 
factions and  interests.  Among  other  things  worthy  of  mention,  he  established  the 
first  New  York  Savings  Bank  in  1819,  agitated  the  "free  school  system,"  and  was 
influential  in  securing  the  construction  of  the  Erie  Canal.  Through  his  zeal  a 
meeting  was  held  November  20,  1804,  to  consider  the  preliminary  arrangements 
for  the  Society,  whose  minutes  contain  the  following  record  of  that  first  important 
meeting: 

"The  following  persons,  vizt — Egbert  Benson,  DeWitt  Clinton,  Rev.  William  Linn,  Rev. 
Saml.  Miller,  Rev.  John  N.  Abeel,  Rev.  John  M.  Mason,  Dr.  David  Hosack,  Anthony 
Bleecker,  Saml.  Bayard,  Peter  G.  Stuyvesant  and  John  Pintard,  being  assembled  in  the 
Picture  Room  of  the  City  Hall  of  the  City  of  New  York  (located  on  Wall  Street)  agreed 
to  form  themselves  into  a  Society,  the  principal  design  of  which  should  be  to  collect  and 
preserve  whatever  may  relate  to  the  natural,  civil  or  ecclesiastical  History  of  the  United 
States  in  general,  and  of  this  State  in  particular,  and  appointed  Mr.  Benson,  Doctor  Miller 
and  Mr.  Pintard  a  committee  to  prepare  and  report  a  draft  of  a  Constitution." 

This  constitution  was  adopted,  and  the  first  regular  meeting  thereafter  was 
held  January  14,  1805,  the  Society  was  formally  organized  and  an  election  of 
officers  took  place.  They  adopted  a  seal,  and  later  a  vignette  showing  the  arrival 
of  Henry  Hudson  in  1609,  designed  by  Durand,  for  diploma.  These  eleven  gentle- 
men who  formed  the  nucleus  of  the  Society  were  all  prominent,  illustrious  New 
Yorkers,  whose  achievements  are  too  widely  known  to  require  recital  herein. 
Several  of  them  later  served  as  Presidents  of  the  Society  and  battled  persistently 
for  it  through  precarious  times. 

The  first  home  of  the  Society  was  Federal  Hall.  It  stood  on  the  northeast 
corner  of  Wall  and  Nassau  Streets,  having  been  erected  in  1700  as  the  second 
City  Hall,  succeeding  the  first  City  Hall  or  "Stadt  Huys"  erected  on  Pearl  Street 
in  1642.  Here  the  Society  held  its  meetings  until  1809,  and  in  1812  the  historic 
old  building,  that  had  witnessed  President  Washington's  inauguration,  was  torn 
down. 

The  foundation  was  laid  for  its  present  extensive  library  when  the  Society,  in 
1807,  purchased  from  its  Recording  Secretary,  Mr.  John  Pintard,  a  considerable 
number  of  books  relating  to  the  history  of  America.  Liberal  donations  were  sub- 
sequently made,  and  these,  together  with  other  purchases,  soon  formed  a  creditable 
library  in  the  department  of  American  History. 

The  Society  in  1809  commemorated  the  discovery  of  this  part  of  North  Amer- 
ica by  Henry  Hudson  two  hundred  years  previously.  They  were  granted  the  use 
of  the  front  courtroom  of  Federal  Hall  for  the  occasion,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Miller 
discoursed  of  the  event  to  the  elite  of  New  York,  including  "His  Excellency  the 

[375] 


New  Home  on  Central  Park  West 


Governor,  and  the  Mayor  and  Corporation  of  the  City."  The  Society  thereupon 
adjourned  to  the  then  popular  City  Hotel  to  partake  of  a  repast  characteristic  of 
the  times,  and  roundly  toasted  the  principal  historical  events  and  functionaries  of 
the  United  States.  The  enthusiasm  aroused  by  this  momentous  occasion  lent 
impetus  to  the  publication  by  the  Society  of  its  first  volume  of  Collections,  subse- 
quently followed  by  some  thirty  others  during  the  first  century  of  its  existence. 

Through  a  subscription  of  $100,000  by  Mrs.  Robert  L.  Stuart  and  further 
additions  by  the  members  and  friends  of  the  Society,  amounting  to  over  $150,000, 
the  Society  was  enabled  to  purchase  in  1891  a  site  on  Eighth  Avenue,  Seventy- 
sixth  and  Seventy-seventh  Streets,  for  the  erection  of  its  present  magnificent 
home.  The  importance  to  which  the  Society  had  attained  is  demonstrated  by  a 
perusal  of  a  list  of  the  subscribers  to  this  fund,  on  which  are  enrolled  the  names  of 
many  of  the  most  representative  and  pre-eminent  citizens  of  New  York.  The 
further  gift  from  Mr.  Henry  Dexter  (a  member  since  1863)  of  $250,000  insured 
the  erection  of  the  central  portion  of  the  new  building. 

In  1903  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  for  the  new  edifice  took  place,  where- 
upon the  assembly  adjourned  to  the  lecture  hall  of  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History  to  celebrate  its  ninety-ninth  anniversary.  Mr.  Hamilton  W. 
Mabie  furnished  the  address  of  the  occasion,  the  subject  being,  appropriately, 
"The  Genius  of  the  Cosmopolitan  City."  Probably  in  no  other  enterprise  of  New 
York  has  that  same  genius  pulsed  more  vigorously  than  in  the  New  York  His- 
torical Society  from  its  inception  with  a  scant  handful  of  members  to  the  present 
day,  housed  in  its  extensive  new  building. 

****** 

ROBERT  H.  KELBY 

One  of  the  few  men  in  the  city  without  whose  aid  it  would  be  practically  im- 
possible to  write  a  good  article  on  New  York  City  is  the  well-known  librarian 
of  the  New  York  Historical  Society,  Robert  H.  Kelby.  Mr.  Kelby  is  pleasantly 
remembered  by  many  old  New  Yorkers,  not  only  in  connection  with  his  work  as 
librarian,  but  for  his  delightful  lectures  on  the  Revolutionary  period  of  our  city. 
On  May  1st  Mr.  Kelby  celebrated  his  forty-fifth  anniversary  in  connection  with  the 
Society,  which  means  that  for  almost  three-quarters  of  a  century  he  has  been  in  the 
atmosphere  of  old  New  York,  his  native  city. 

It  is  pleasant  to  record  our  acknowledgment  of  his  kindly  services  in  the  prep- 
aration of  this  work,  and  of  the  many  courtesies  which  the  Library  itself  has  ac- 
corded the  writer. 


[  376] 


COPYRIGHT.  1913.   H.  C.  BROWN. 


If'vcat  jEntrmtrr  to  tljr  Srooklytt  Hr&gr 


THIS  SHOWS  THE  FIRST  NEW  YORK  ENTRANCE  TO  THE  BROOKLYN 
BRIDGE  AS  IT  APPEARED  AT  ITS  OPENING  IN  1884.  FRENCH  S  HOTEL 
IS  SEEN  ON  THE  CORNER  WHERE  THE  WORLD  BUILDING  NOW 
STANDS.  THE  SUN  BUILDING  IS  ABOUT  THE  SAME  TO-DAY.  EXCEPT 
THAT  PERRY'S  DRUG  STORE  THEN  OCCUPIED  PART  OF  THE  STREET 
FLOOR.  BILLY  HITCHCOCK'S  WAS  IN  THE  BASEMENT  NEXT  TO 
FRENCH'S.  AND  CROOK  AND  NASH  HAD  A  RESTAURANT  TWO  DOORS 
BELOW.  THE  ENTRANCE  TO  THE  BRIDGE  DID  NOT  EXTEND  BEYOND 
THE  BUILDING  LINE  OF  THE  EAST  SIDE  OF  PARK  ROW  AND  THE  FARE 
FOR  FOOT  PASSENGERS  WAS  ONE  CENT.  THE  BRIDGE  CARS  RAN 
ONLY  ACROSS  THE  BRIDGE  AND  MADE  NO  CONNECTION  AT  EITHER 
END.  AS  THEY  DO  TO  DAY.  IT  COST  THREE  CENTS  TO  RIDE  FROM 
ONE  SIDE  TO  THE  OTHER. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION    OF   MR    HENRY  MORGENTHAU 


THE  SOCIETY  LIBRARY,  THE  OLDEST  IN  THE  CITY 


SOME  OF  ITS  PRICELESS  TREASURES-ONLY  FILE  OF  BRADFORD'S 
N.  Y.  GAZETTE,  1726-29,  IN  EXISTENCE  OWNED  BY  IT 

On  the  25th  of  March,  1728,  the  Rev.  John  Millington,  D.D.,  bequeathed  to 
the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts  all  of  his  books, 
with  the  reqeust  that  they  be  sent  to  the  plantations  in  America.  The  society 
decided  to  send  this  library,  consisting  of  1,642  volumes,  to  New  York,  and  in 
1729  the  Common  Council  accepted  the  gift  and  agreed  to  care  for  the  collection, 
which  was  known  as  the  Corporation  Library. 

As  the  library  was  little  used,  in  1754  a  number  of  prominent  citizens  met  and 
organized  as  the  Society  Library. 

It  meant  something  to  draw  a  book  in  those  days,  since  travel  was  not  only 
difficult  but  expensive,  and  while  now  they  deliver  all  books  to  members  residing 
in  the  city,  there  was  a  time  when  persons  desiring  books  were  frequently  obliged 
to  come  from  another  State  to  get  them.  In  some  cases  such  a  person  could  not 
come  oftener  than  once  a  year  to  the  city.  To  take  out  a  book  he  had  to  deposit  a 
sum  greater  than  the  cost  of  the  book  to  start  with,  but  he  could  keep  it  a  year 
without  renewal. 

Many  of  the  old  Knickerbocker  families  held  stock  in  the  library  in  the  early 
days,  and  there  are  yet  several  families  whose  ancestors  held  stock  in  the  original 
corporation,  which  was  formed  in  1754,  and  they  treasure  the  original  shares 
highly.  Among  these  are  the  De  Peysters,  De  Lanceys,  Livingstons,  Schuylers 
and  Roosevelts. 

It  was  along  in  1772  that  the  library  came  to  the  notice  of  King  George,  and 
in  that  year  a  charter  was  granted  it,  a  copy  of  which  is  still  in  its  collec- 
tion. During  the  War  of  the  Revolution  many  of  the  books  were  scattered,  as  the 
library  was  sacked  by  the  Hessian  troops  who  were  quartered  in  the  city.  Some  of 
them  were  traded  for  rum.  After  the  war  many  of  them  were  found,  and  a  collec- 
tion of  some  600  of  them  were  discovered  in  the  tower  of  St.  Paul's  Church. 

It  has  many  valuable  books  and  papers.  Particularly  rare  is  a  file  of  the 
New  York  Gazette,  published  by  William  Bradford  from  March  26,  1726,  to 
November  17,  1729.   There  are  no  other  copies  of  these  particular  files  in  existence. 

There  are  five  special  collections  of  books  in  the  library,  of  which  one  of  the 
more  important  is  the  Winthrop  collection  in  Latin,  once  the  property  of  John 
Winthrop  of  Connecticut.  Then  there  is  the  John  C.  Green  alcove  of  art  works 
maintained  by  the  sum  of  $50,000  left  by  his  widow.  It  includes  books  on  archi- 
tecture, costumes,  heraldry,  etc. 


[379] 


OLD  MERCHANTS  OF  NEW  YORK 


In  the  days  when  New  York  was  struggling  to  secure  a  foothold  in  the  world 
of  commerce,  the  methods  of  doing  business  were  widely  different  from  those  which 
prevail  to-day.  Very  few  goods  were  manufactured,  most  of  them  coming  from 
abroad.  Instead  of  going  through  the  hands  of  jobbers,  merchandise  to  a  great 
extent  was  consigned  to  auctioneers  who  announced  the  contents  of  a  cargo  and 
sold  them  at  the  wharf  to  the  highest  bidder.  The  dealers  in  the  different  lines 
would  thereupon  remove  such  purchases  to  their  stores  and  proceed  to  distribute 
them  among  their  customers. 

Announcements  were  made  with  much  detail  as  to  location.   For  example : 

"Now  opening  at  the  house  of  Erasmus  Williams  in  Broad  Street  near 
the  Exchange  and  nearly  opposite  to  Gen.  Gage's  an  assortment  of  Indian 
goods  bought  in  London  by  a  competent  judge,"  etc. 

It  was  customary  then  and  for  a  great  many  years  afterwards  for  merchants 
to  live  over  their  stores,  and  even  when  the  town  began  to  assume  some  social  pre- 
tensions the  custom  of  living  over  the  stores  was  continued.  In  those  early  days 
the  leading  business  firms  were  auctioneers,  and  that  of  David  Austin  was  well  in 
the  fore.  He  lived  in  Bowling  Green  next  to  Mr.  Stephen  Whitney's,  then 
accounted  the  richest  man  in  New  York.  We  remember  the  block  as  "Old  Steam- 
ship Row."  It  is  now  the  Custom  House.  The  firm  was  at  one  time  Austin  &  Wil- 
merding  and  Austin  &  Spicer.  Isaac  Townsend,  president  of  the  Union  Club,  is 
a  grandson  of  Austin's.  This  same  family  were  the  first  ironmasters  in  the  country, 
owning  the  Sterling  Iron  Works  just  back  of  Tuxedo  Park.  At  this  foundry  was 
forged  the  chain  stretched  across  the  Hudson  at  Dobbs  Ferry  to  prevent  the  Eng- 
lish fleet  from  ascending. 

Prime,  Ward  &  King  were  the  J.  P.  Morgans  of  their  day.  John  Jacob  Astor 
and  John  G.  Coster  were  prominent  in  real  estate.  Peter  and  George  Lorillard 
had  a  snuff  mill  in  what  is  now  Bronx  Park  and  a  shop  in  Chatham  Street  (No.  42) , 
and  later  on  the  grandsons  had  a  large  plant  which  covered  the  block  on  West 
Broadway,  Franklin  and  Leonard  Streets.  They  later  removed  to  Jersey  City,  but 
kept  a  warehouse  on  Chambers  Street.  The  business  is  still  continued  in  Marion, 
N.  J.,  which  makes  the  rather  creditable  record  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-three 
years  of  uninterrupted  existence. 

Archibald  Gracie  &  Sons  were  among  the  first  to  organize  the  insurance  busi- 
ness in  this  city ;  James  McEvers  was  also  interested  in  the  same  line.  Grant  Thor- 
burn  founded  the  seed-store  in  1802  which  is  still  conducted  by  his  direct  descend- 
ants on  Barclay  Street. 

During  one  of  the  fever  outbreaks  which  were  prevalent  in  those  days,  a 
young  man  walked  into  Thorburn's  store,  freshly  landed  from  an  English  ship. 


[  380  ] 


Lawrence  &  Schieffelin 


He  was  without  friends  or  money,  and  requested  Mr.  Thorburn  to  board  him  until 
he  could  find  work.  The  young  man  was  attacked  by  the  fever  and  was  nursed 
through  a  dangerous  illness  by  Grant  Thorburn  and  his  wife.  This  act  of  kindness 
was  repaid  many  times  over,  as  the  young  man  subsequently  rose  to  great  distinc- 
tion as  inventor  and  builder  of  the  printing  press — Robert  Hoe.  Grant  Thor- 
burn was  a  noted  character  in  his  day  and  his  funeral  was  largely  attended  by 
representative  men  in  all  walks  of  life. 

David  Kennedy,  John  Haggerty,  Thomas  Suffern,  William  Constable,  H.  A. 
Coster,  Frederick  Gebhard,  Philip  Livingston,  Parish  &  Kernoch,  Andrew  A. 
Barclay,  William  Beekman,  Nicholas  K.  Anthony,  Peter  and  Abraham  Brincker- 
hoff,  Jr.,  Nicholas  Roosevelt,  Joseph  Kernochan,  were  prominent  merchants  at 
that  time  engaged  in  different  enterprises,  and  these  family  names  are  still  borne 
with  distinction  by  their  descendants  who  are  active  in  various  commercial  lines  to- 
day. Rufus  King,  James  Gore  King,  Effingham  Lawrence,  John  B.  Lawrence, 
are  brought  to  memory  by  their  descendants.  Jacob  Schieffelin,  who  formed  a 
partnership  with  Effingham  Lawrence  in  1794  under  the  firm  name  of  Lawrence 
&  Schieffelin,  is  perpetuated  to-day  in  the  well-known  firm  of  Schieffelin  &  Co., 
whose  place  of  business  is  still  in  the  neighborhood  where  it  was  founded,  one 
hundred  and  nineteen  years  ago. 

Peter  Van  Brugh  Livingston,  Henry  C.  De  Rahm,  Thomas  Buchanan,  Isaac 
Roosevelt,  John  Pintard,  Peter  Goelet,  Isaac  Low,  A.  A.  Low,  were  among  other 
merchants  doing  business  on  the  west  side  of  the  city,  and  the  streets  contiguous 
to  it,  as  Washington,  Greenwich,  Liberty,  Cortlandt,  State,  Stone  and  Mill  Streets ; 
also,  LeRoy,  Bayard  &  McEvers,  Van  Horn  &  Clarkson,  Reade  &  Jepson, 
Joseph  Howland  &  Son,  Levi  Coit,  Kane  &  Piatt,  John  Atkinson  &  Son,  Andrew 
Ogden  &  Co.,  T.  and  J.  Swords,  Evert  Duyckinck,  David  Longworth,  Isaac  Riley, 
Samuel  F.  Hopkins,  Samuel  Campbell,  Hoffman  &  Seton,  Alexander  S.  Glass, 
James  Bleecker,  Hone,  Livingston  &  Co.,  Irving  &  Smith,  Ingraham,  Phoenix  & 
Noxson,  and  others. 

The  dry-goods  trade  was  principally  confined  to  Pearl  Street,  where  it  con- 
tinued until  the  great  fire  of  1835.  After  having  been  rebuilt,  such  high  rents 
were  demanded  that  the  business  diffused  itself  through  the  city,  and  you  could 
scarcely  find  a  dry-goods  house  in  the  whole  street.  Among  the  old  houses  of  that 
day  were  Haggerty  &  Austin,  E.  and  P.Evary,  Gilbert  and  John  Aspinwall,  Law- 
rence, Van  Sindevan  &  Co.,  Daniel  Rapelye,  Blackwell  &  McFarland,  William 
Dodge  &  Sons,  J.  G.  Pierson  &  Bros.,  Swartwout  &  Dumont,  Peter  Remsen,  Au- 
gustus Wynkoop,  John  F.  Suydam,  James  and  Nicholas  Heard,  Joshua  Wad- 
dington  &  Co.,  Van  Winkle  &  Antwerp,  Robert  Chesebrough,  Clendening  & 
Adams. 

Almost  all  the  sloops  and  other  vessels  from  towns  on  the  North  River — Al- 
bany, Troy,  Poughkeepsie,  Lansingburg,  Waterford,  Hudson,  Rhinebeck,  Red- 
hook,  Fishkill,  Newburgh,  Catskill,  etc.,  docked  at  the  Battery  from  Whitehall 
Street  along  South  to  the  west  side  of  Coenties  Slip.  They  brought  country 
produce,  grain,  provisions,  etc.   New  Brunswick,  Amboy,  Newark,  Elizabethtown, 


[  383  ] 


Irish,  Scotch  and  French  Merchants 


Rahway  and  other  New  Jersey  sloops  came  in  at  the  Old  Albany  basin  in  front  of 
23  South  Street.  As  this  was  before  the  days  of  steamboats,  many  of  the  sloops 
were  fitted  up  in  handsome  style  for  the  conveyance  of  passengers,  as  it  was  quite 
an  undertaking  to  make  a  voyage  to  Albany,  adverse  winds,  etc.,  often  delaying 
them  several  days  on  the  river. 

Counsellors  and  lawyers  in  Broad  Street  were  Nathaniel  Pendleton,  Samuel 
Jones,  Jr.,  David  S.  Jones,  George  Griffin,  Governor  Ogden,  Keese  &  Garr;  in 
Garden  Street,  Thomas  L.  Ogden,  David  A.  Ogden;  in  Pine  Street,  Caleb  S. 
Riggs,  David  B.  Ogden,  Peter  A.  Jay,  William  Johnson,  John  Wells,  Josiah 
Ogden  Hoffman;  in  Nassau  Street,  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  William  Sampson, 
William  Slosson,  Cadwalader  D.  Colden,  Martin  S.  Wilkins,  Jacob  Radcliffe, 
Peter  W.  Radcliffe.  In  William  Street  were  Henry  A.  and  John  G.  Coster,  Joel 
and  Jotham  Post,  A.  and  F.  Ogsbury,  Augustine  H.  Lawrence  &  Co.  All  were 
eminent,  and  their  offices,  as  they  are  to-day,  were  contiguous  to  the  City  Hall, 
which  was  then  in  Wall  Street. 

In  Coenties  Slip,  South  Street,  were  the  houses  of  Simon  and  Peter  Schermer- 
horn,  Saltus  &  Son,  William  Codman,  Palmer  &  Hamilton,  Foster  &  Giraud. 
There  were  also  a  large  number  of  Friends  in  this  neighborhood,  operators  in 
flour  and  grain,  and  interested  in  shipping,  among  them  John  Townsend,  Franklin 
Robinson  &  Co.,  John  Franklin,  Henry  and  Matthew  Franklin,  Minturn  & 
Champlin. 

In  Front  Street  were  the  well-known  houses  of  Jenkins  &  Havens,  Gabriel  and 
Philetus  Havens,  Bailey  &  Bogert,  Ebenezer  Stevens,  B.  and  J.  Strong  &  Co., 
John  and  Jacob  Drake,  Tredwell  &  Thome  and  Thomas  H.  Smith.  There  were 
other  prominent  merchants  in  different  parts  of  the  city:  J.  Boonen  Graves, 
Frederick  Gebhard,  Knox  &  Laurie,  Divie  Bethune,  Gilbert  Robertson,  George 
Barnwall;  and  of  Irish  houses  engaged  in  the  Irish  trade,  which  was  a  very  impor- 
tant one,  were  James  McBride,  John  Flack,  William  and  Samuel  Craig, 
McVickar  &  Stuart,  Alexander  Cranston  &  Co.,  Abraham  Bell  &  Co.,  James  and 
William  Sterling,  John  Agnew.  Other  familiar  names  are  George  Clinton,  Al- 
bert and  James  Chrystie,  Alexander  Brown,  Benjamin  de  Forest,  Henry  and 
William  Delafield,  James  De  Lancey,  Francis  Depau,  Frederick  De  Peyster, 
Charles  De  Witt,  James  Duane,  William  Duer,  Nicholas  Fish,  Fish  &  Grinnell, 
Gilbert  Haight,  Thomas  Hamersley,  Hicks,  Lawrence  &  Co.,  Robert  Hoe  & 
Co.,  Philip  Hone,  John  Hone  &  Co.,  Daniel  Ludlow,  James  Rutgers  Marshall, 
Robert  Murray,  Henry  and  Daniel  Parish,  Piatt,  Stout  &  Ingoldsby,  William 
Rhinelander,  Anthony  Rutgers,  Comfort  Sands,  Augustus  Schell,  John  Speyer, 
Garrit  and  Stephen  Storm,  Samuel  Townsend,  Peter  P.  Van  Buren,  Gulian  C. 
Verplanck,  Marmaduke  Ward,  Stephen  Whitney,  Benjamin  Wolfe,  Sebring  & 
Varick,  John  T.  Willetts,  Preserved  Fish,  and  others. 

The  descendants  of  many  of  these  old  merchants  are  still  in  active  business. 
Others  have  become  large  landed  proprietors,  while  law  and  literature  have  claimed 
many  more.  In  banks,  trust  companies  and  corporations  of  various  kinds  can 
be  read  names  of  the  third  and  fourth  generation  still  carrying  out  the  plans 


[  384  ] 


< 


COPYRIGHT    1  9  t  ?,  H    C  BROWN. 


ahp  (Smiurnirur  iHorris  ^atat  in  fHorrisama,  1THE 


THE  GOUVERNEUR  MORRIS  WHO  PRACTICALLY  BUILT  THIS  HOUSE 
WAS  ONE  OF  THE  BIG  FIGURES  IN  THE  REVOLUTION .  HE  WAS  A 
MEMBER  OF  THE  PROVINCIAL  CONGRESS  AND  OF  THE  CONTINEN- 
TAL CONGRESS.  AND  LATER  DELEGATE  TO  FRAME  THE  FEDERAL 
CONSTITUTION.  AND  A  SENATOR  IN  CONGRESS.  AS  AN  INTIMATE 
FRIEND  OF  WASHINGTON  HE  PLAYED  AN  IMPORTANT  PART  ABROAD 
AS  MINISTER  TO  FRANCE.  AND  WAS  PRESENT  AT  THE  FIRST  DAY 
OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  HE  PROPOSED  A  PLAN  OF  ESCAPE 
FOR  LOUIS  XVI.  WHICH  WOULD  HAVE  PROVED  SUCCESSFUL  HAD  NOT 
THE  LATTER  CHANGED  HIS  MIND  AND  DECIDED  TO  REMAIN.  HE 
DELIVERED  THE  ORATION  AT  THE  FUNERAL  OF  ALEXANDER 
HAMILTON.  OF  ALL  THE  GREAT  CHARACTERS  DURING  THE  STORMY 
PERIOD  IN  WHICH  HE  LIVED  FEWSHONE  WITH  GREATER  BRILLIANCY. 
THIS  FINE  OLD  HISTORIC  HOUSE  WAS  RUTHLESSLY  DEMOLISHED 
TO  MAKE  ROOM  FOR  AN  EXTENSION  OF  THE  NEW  HAVEN  TRACKS. 

FROM  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR    J.  CRAWFORD  BROWN. 


Century-old  Firms 


and  policies  of  their  forebears,  changed  and  enlarged  to  meet  the  present-day  con- 
ditions. 

Of  the  firms  that  have  been  in  existence  over  one  hundred  years  in  New  York, 
the  list  is  small.  Prominent  among  them,  besides  those  we  have  already  named, 
occur  to  us  Cowperthwait  &  Co.,  established  1807;  Colgate  &  Co.,  1806;  Bank  of 
New  York,  1794;  R.  C.  Williams  Co.,  1810;  The  American  Bank  Note  Co.;  Bar- 
rett, Nephews  &  Co.  Doubtless  there  are  others,  but  there  seems  no  accurate  record 
available. 

Within  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  vast  changes  have  occurred  in  the  busi- 
ness world.  Great  aggregations  of  capital  have  combined  and  absorbed  many 
individual  firms  into  one  giant  corporation.  In  this  way  well-known  houses  of  the 
last  century  have  disappeared  in  a  sense,  though  the  merchants  themselves  are  still 
in  business.  The  half  a  hundred  well-known  tobacco  firms,  for  instance,  such  as 
William  S.  Kimball  &  Co.,  Allen  &  Gunter,  W.  Duke,  Sons  &  Co.,  Kinney  Bros., 
Goodwin  &  Co.,  Thomas  Hall,  were  long  ago  absorbed  by  just  such  a  combina- 
tion. The  same  process  has  applied  to  many  other  branches  of  mercantile  life,  so 
that  the  days  when  our  employer  knew  all  of  his  help  has  long  ago  passed  into 
oblivion. 

The  new  order  of  things  was  no  doubt  the  natural  result  of  new  conditions, 
and  is  perhaps  a  better  and  more  modern  method  of  trading.  But  the  old  days 
and  the  old  methods  had  the  advantage  of  the  personal  equation,  an  element  wholly 
unknown  in  the  impersonal  corporation  spirit  of  to-day.  It  is  said  to  be  better,  but 
the  Government  is  constantly  trying  to  restore  old  conditions.  Co-operation,  how- 
ever, as  against  unrestrained  competition,  is  a  great  attraction. 

A  firm  of  great  prominence  in  the  eighties  was  H.  K.  and  F.  B.  Thurber  & 
Co.,  wholesale  grocers.  In  their  line  they  ranked  the  highest.  They  did  a  busi- 
ness of  over  $30,000,000  annually,  a  remarkable  performance  for  those  days.  They 
have  completely  disappeared.  Francis  H.  Leggett  &  Co.  were  then  on  Reade 
Street,  with  Austin  Nichols  &  Co.,  Burkhalter,  Masten  &  Co.  and  H.  M.  Anthony 
opposite.  Early  &  Lane  were  on  the  corner  of  Reade  Street  and  West  Broad- 
way, and  Wiley,  Wickes  &  Wing  just  below.  Robert  Gair,  who  now  has  eight  or 
nine  immense  modern  factory  buildings  in  Brooklyn,  was  then  at  No.  143.  He  had 
as  a  partner  George  West,  of  Ballston  Spa.  B.  E.  Hale  &  Co.  were  on  Park  Place. 
D.  S.  Walton  was  with  them.  He  bought  the  Hale  business  and  developed  an  im- 
mense establishment  of  his  own. 

Fischer  &  Lansing  were  on  the  corner  of  Greenwich  and  Reade  Streets,  now 
B.  Fischer  &  Co. ;  Lewis  De  Groff  &  Son  in  Washington  Street.  Henry  Welsh  was 
another  noted  figure.  His  building  collapsed  one  day,  causing  a  sensation.  C.  F. 
Mattlage,  Tarrant  &  Co.,  Hall  &  Ruckel,  were  in  Warren  Street.  C.  H.  and  E.  S. 
Goldberg,  who  now  occupy  the  old  Thurber  Building,  were  in  Washington  Street, 
and  Kemp,  Day  &  Co.  on  Murray. 

The  hardware  men  were  in  Chambers  and  Murray  Streets.  Yale  &  Towne 
Manufacturing  Co.  were  in  a  very  small  and  old  building  not  far  from  Broadway. 
Russell  &  Erwin  were  on  Reade  Street,  next  to  the  American  News  Co.  Sargent 


[387] 


The  Last  Quarter  of  a  Century 


&  Co.,  P.  and  F.  Corbin,  Stanley  Works,  Henry  B.  Newhall,  Peck,  Stow  &  Wilcox 
Co.,  Reading  Hardware  Co.,  W.  &  J.  Tiebout,  Patterson  Bros.,  Wiebusch  &  Hil- 
ger,  Whitman  &  Barnes,  Alfred  Field  &  Son,  were  among  the  best  known  ones. 
They  must  all  be  quite  old  houses  now. 

Among  the  printers,  the  famous  Trow  Press,  patriarch  among  printing  shops 
in  New  York  and  publishers  of  the  City  Directory  for  nearly  a  century,  were,  and 
are,  in  East  12th  Street.  The  Bartlett-Orr  Press  was  just  coming  into  existence. 
Bartlett  had  made  a  great  reputation  as  an  engraver.  Louis  Orr  came  along  and 
developed  the  plant.  They  were  the  first  in  town  to  make  strictly  high-class  work 
for  mercantile  purposes.  Their  catalogue  work  for  Mott  and  Columbia  bicycles 
created  a  sensation  in  their  day.  Francis  Hart  &  Co.,  afterward  the  De  Vinne 
Press,  were  on  College  Place  and  Murray  Street,  with  Theodore  L.  De  Vinne  as 
manager.  The  Winthrop  Press  was  then  in  Waverly  Place,  and  was  a  small  affair 
compared  with  the  present.  Douglass  Taylor  was  prominent  then;  so  were  Nesbit 
&  Co.  The  American  Bank  Note  Co.  had  just  moved  to  their  new  building  on 
Trinity  Place.  Martin  B.  Brown  was  on  Murray  Street,  and  Major  Knapp  & 
Co.  on  Park  Place.  Warner  Hatch  was  still  prominent  in  lithography,  and  G. 
H.  Buek  &  Co.  had  commenced  to  make  themselves  known.  Mr.  Buek's  wonder- 
ful water-color  reproductions  marked  a  distinct  epoch  in  the  business.  Donaldson 
Bros,  were  over  in  Five  Points.  Schumacher  &  Ettlinger  were  on  Bleecker,  and 
Julius  Bien  on  Duane  Street;  Gast  Litho  Co.,  Wemple  &  Co.,  on  Warren;  John 
Hodge,  dean  of  lithographers,  was  in  Fulton  Street;  Burrow-Giles  on  College 
Place,  and  Lindner,  Eddy  &  Claus  in  Centre  Street;  C.  G.  Burgoyne,  the  first 
"quick  printer,"  on  Centre  Street.  Hinds,  Ketcham  &  Co.  were  the  best  known 
label  house,  with  Sam  Crump  a  good  second.  Gilbert  Johnstone,  now  prominent 
in  the  U.  S.  Printing  Co.,  was  taking  his  first  orders  from  Duke's  Cigarette  fac- 
tory in  Rivington  Street,  and  the  Burr  Printing  House,  established  by  Gray  & 
Green,  on  Jacob  Street,  was  well  known.  Mr.  William  Green,  affectionately 
known  as  "Billy"  to  all  the  trade,  is  a  son  of  Green  of  this  old  firm. 

These  are  just  a  few  of  the  firms  with  whom  I  was  brought  into  contact  in 
the  regular  course  of  business,  and  form  only  a  small  list.  These  are  noted,  as  with 
few  exceptions  they  are  still  in  business  and  have  prospered. 

Joseph  Pulitzer  had  just  arrived  from  St.  Louis,  and  was  making  a  stir  with 
the  World.  William  Randolph  Hearst  had  just  graduated  from  college,  and  his 
entry  into  journalism  was  not  regarded  seriously.  Arthur  Brisbane  was  still  the 
London  correspondent  of  the  New  York  Sun,  which  was  then  the  best-known 
paper,  under  the  editorship  of  Charles  A.  Dana.  The  Tribune  was  under  White- 
law  Reid,  the  Times  under  George  Jones,  and  the  Evening  Post  under  Godkin;  the 
Mail  and  Express,  under  Elliott  F.  Shepard,  carried  a  verse  of  Scripture  at  the 
head  of  its  editorial  page  every  day. 

Among  the  advertisers,  Frank  Seaman  had  a  small  office  under  the  stairs  in 
the  old  Cassel  &  Co.  Building  on  Fourth  Avenue ;  J.  Walter  Thompson  had 
modest  rooms  in  the  Times  Building.  Frank  Presbrey  was  running  a  weekly  in 
Washington  called  Public  Opinion,  and  the  Mallory  Bros,  ran  a  theatre  as  well 


[  388  ] 


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Magazine  Publishees 


as  the  Churchman.  Carleton  &  Kissam  will  be  recalled  as  the  pioneers  in  street-car 
advertising,  to  be  shortly  supplanted  by  Michael  Wineburgh  and  Hugh  J.  Grant, 
who  broke  their  monopoly  in  New  York.  Michael  afterwards  went  to  New  Eng- 
land, leaving  the  New  York  end  to  his  brothers,  Abe  and  Jesse.  Oscar  J.  Gude 
established  his  circuit  of  painted  bulletins  and  developed  it  into  a  valuable  advertis- 
ing medium.  In  conjunction  with  Mr.  Van  Buren,  Mr.  Link,  Mr.  A.  E.  La  Tour 
and  Mr.  Clark,  he  placed  the  business  of  bill-posting  on  a  reputable  footing;  F.  M. 
Jones,  James  P.  Gillroy,  A.  E.  Gans,  since  prominent  in  this  line,  were  still  in  the 
making.  W.  S.  Yerkes  had  just  come  from  Philadelphia.  Advertising  in  those 
days  was  confined  strictly  to  formal  statements  of  the  goods  offered.  None  of  the 
conversational  style  of  writing  of  to-day  was  practised. 

Among  the  publishers,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.  were  in  Bond  Street,  and  Scrib- 
ner  &  Sons  at  743  Broadway.  Frank  N.  Doubleday  was  manager  of  Scribner's 
Magazine,  and  Ambassador  Page  was  editor  of  the  Forum.  Roswell  Smith  was  at 
the  height  of  his  career,  and  the  Century  Magazine,  with  its  famous  war  articles, 
had  so  far  distanced  competitors  as  to  be  in  a  class  by  itself.  George  H.  Hazen, 
president  of  the  Woman's  Home  Companion,  was  advertising  manager  of  the 
Century,  and  was  then,  as  now,  a  spectacular  figure  in  the  business.  The  most 
popular  medium  of  advertising  was  undoubtedly  the  Youth's  Companion,  under 
the  management  of  Francis  A.  Wilson,  since  prominent  in  the  tobacco  business; 
associated  with  him  was  Harold  Roberts,  now  treasurer  of  the  American  Real 
Estate  Co.  The  Review  of  Reviews  had  just  been  established  by  W.  T.  Stead  and 
Albert  Shaw,  but  gave  no  promise  of  its  present  wonderful  importance.  Harper 
and  Bros,  were,  of  course,  the  leading  all-round  house  in  this  line. 

Cyrus  Curtis  had  launched  his  Ladies'  Home  Journal.  Edward  Bok  was  run- 
ning a  series  of  syndicate  letters  which  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr.  Curtis,  and 
brought  him  the  offer  to  join  the  Journal.  The  father  of  George  Horace  Lori- 
mer,  editor  of  the  Saturday  Evening  Post,  was  then  a  very  prominent  preacher  in 
Boston,  and  the  son  was  connected  with  Armour  &  Co.  in  Chicago.  It  was  not  till 
some  years  later  that  he  changed  from  beef  to  literature.  John  Brisben  Walker 
was  a  prominent  figure,  but  Frank  A.  Munsey,  with  his  ten-cent  magazine,  was 
picked  out  as  a  failure.  He  broke  the  monopoly  of  the  American  News  Co.  and 
scored  a  huge  success. 

The  paper  trade  was  represented  by  Perkins  &  Goodwin,  still  in  existence  and 
very  prosperous,  now  owned  by  two  former  employees,  Eugene  F.  Crowe  and  John 
H.  Duffy.  Henry  Lindemeyer,  George  W.  Millar  &  Co.,  Vernon  Bros.,  and 
Wilkinson  Bros,  and  Louis  de  Jonge  were  also  features  of  Duane  Street,  the 
paper  market. 


[391] 


L'ENVOI:  SOMEWHAT  PERSONAL 

It  is  quite  the  proper  thing  to  say  that  New  Yorkers  care  nothing 
for  their  city;  that  its  history  is  a  matter  of  indifference,  and  its  tradi- 
tions of  no  consequence.  As  for  such  a  thing  as  sentiment,  or  affec- 
tion for  the  old  town,  nothing  could  be  more  absurd.  Yet  elsewhere 
in  this  book  one  of  my  contributors  makes  special  mention  of  the 
cordiality  with  which  he  was  supported  when  he  made  his  exhibition 
of  old  New  York  prints  at  the  opening  of  the  Lawyers'  Title  and 
Trust  Company's  new  building.  In  the  preparation  of  the  book  I 
have  had  the  same  delightful  experience.  Nothing  could  have  ex- 
ceeded the  hearty  co-operation  or  the  cheerfulness  with  which  the 
needed  material  was  provided,  when  the  purpose  became  known.  In- 
stead of  apathy  where  our  city's  history  is  concerned,  I  found  only 
the  keenest  interest,  and  in  place  of  indifference  the  liveliest  desire 
was  shown  to  record  the  glories  of  its  past. 

My  chief  regret  is  that  there  is  still  so  much  to  be  done — so  much 
to  be  shown — before  the  record  of  the  last  sixty  years  is  anywhere 
near  complete.  But  at  the  end  of  a  three-year  self-imposed  task  it  is 
time  to  pause.  It  may  be  that  eventually  I  shall  undertake  to  finish 
the  work,  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  I  am  glad  I  have  made  this  start. 
No  New  Yorker  can  look  at  these  old-time  pictures  without  a  quick- 
ened pride  in  the  place  that  gave  him  birth.  All  around  us  is  a  vastly 
different  city  from  the  one  these  pages  recall,  but,  with  all  its  changes, 
it  is  still  the  same  old  New  York. 

H.  C  B. 


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